Hog Wild (An Erotic Three Pigs Twisted Fairy Tale) (5 page)

Lula rocked from side to side, almost whimpering in unbearable anticipation of his next touch. Jesse grasped her hips and tumbled her onto her back, and pounced, bearing down on her. He stopped inches from her face and she stared into the blue eyes of an angel in the face of a devil. Hovering, his mouth poised just above hers, his lips parted and he licked across the seam of her mouth, down her neck and across the swell of her breasts. Lula closed her eyes and moaned. Her pussy was on fire, throbbing and weeping. She could barely keep from grabbing his dick and thrusting it home.

Jesse’s mouth abandoned her, and Lula opened her eyes in time to see him grab a pocketknife from the coffee table. He flicked it open and her heart sped up at the sight of the wickedly sharp blade. He poked the tip under the edge of her tube top, the chill of the blade against her skin raising goose bumps. She held her breath as the knife snicked forward, parting the fabric with a soft ripping sound. The blade hit the floor and he urged his tongue to continue its journey across her breasts, licking the nipples, biting, sucking. First one then the other, until she frantically pushed him lower.

His tongue stopped to play a game of hide and seek with her bellybutton ring. Her pussy clenched and her hips rose, trying to force his mouth into contact with her dark bush.

“Jesse.” The plea escaped, but she didn’t care. She wanted him in her now; any part of him would do. At last, he trailed his tongue lower, wiggling as it raced through her forest and made a beeline for the jackpot.

Lula’s entire body exploded in heat as his mouth fastened on her clit, his tongue worrying the nub, drawing her flesh into his mouth. Lula shook with the desire to feel his cock inside her, pummeling her until that elusive orgasm raged through her body.

Her moan rose into a high-pitched shriek. “Jesse.”
So close, so goddamned close. What is he waiting for?

“Come on.”

She watched as he got to his feet and held his hand out to her.
Is he seriously taking me into the bedroom now?
Lula’s eyes narrowed and she lost some of the fire in her blood. But she put her hand in his; he pulled her to her feet and led her not to the bedroom, but out to the—

“What are we doing in the garage?”

“Come on.” Jesse switched on a dim work light, then crossed to the Phantom, shrouded in shadows. He swung his leg over the seat. Lula saw the cool leather didn’t affect his cock in the slightest. Long and strong, it stretched out the length of the seat, bobbing slightly.

Lula continued to stare as a slow grin spread over his face. “You never said which one was second place, so I don’t think I’ll chance it. Climb up on the tank.”

Before she could protest, he dragged her into his arms. He hoisted her up until her ass sat on the top of the tank cover, her feet resting on his knees for balance.

“This isn’t very comfortable, Jesse.” Her butt was cold, even though the rest of her was red hot.

“Wait a minute.” He thrust his hands underneath her cheeks, cupping them and holding them off the cold metal. “Now move your feet. Let them dangle on either side of the bike.”

Lula took a deep breath. Her perch, while intensely erotic, was also precarious. If she fell, she’d likely knock herself out. But his throbbing erection, a lovely sight from the top of the Phantom, won out. She braced herself on Jesse’s arms and dropped her feet. Immediately, Jesse began to lower her, sliding her down the arc of the tank toward his waiting cock.

“Guide me home, Lula.”

Never letting her eyes leave his gaze, she put her hand around him, lifting his hard, hot staff toward her eager slit. He slid her down, until the tip of his dick rested right at her sopping opening. Jesse nudged just inside her, then thrust upwards as he pulled her down, impaling her on his iron hard cock.

Lula’s shriek of rapture was followed quickly by more of the same as Jesse rocked back on the seat, thrusting upward again and again, pounding her slick sheath with stronger and stronger strokes. The building tension raged on, past the plateau that had stopped her time and time again.

“Let go, Lula.” Jesse thrust again, grinding his hips into her pelvis.

And she did. The orgasm crashed over her, making her whole body spasm, contracting around Jesse’s member buried deep within. She howled her satisfaction, bending back and forcing Jesse even deeper inside as the waves continued to crest within her.

“Jesus Christ!” Jesse’s body jerked as he came, clenched in the viselike grip of her starved pussy.

Lula took one last look into Jesse’s satisfied eyes.
Now I know what it’s like to be fucked to death.
She leaned forward into his hard chest and darkness.

* * * *

The sun was barely up when Jesse heard the roar of two motorcycles turning into his driveway. He walked out onto the front porch, dressed in his black leather riding clothes, a cup of steaming coffee in hand, and looked at the sky. Gonna to be hot today. They had better get a move on.

Beau and Rob were sitting on their bikes, though they had turned them off. Jesse walked casually down the steps and over to them, noting both the way Rob clutched his handlebars and Beau’s “spoiling-for-a-fight” glare. He stopped well in front of them and took a sip of coffee.

This is going to be such a fun family outing
. Jesse tossed the coffee out, restraining the urge to toss it at his brother. “I’ve dealt with her. She won’t be bothering either of you again.”

Beau peered around Jesse and let out a laugh. “You musta done something drastic, big brother. She didn’t get your bike and you’re still standing.” He grinned wickedly. “I have to admit, though, you did miss one hell of a blow job.”

Jesse cocked his head. “Did I?” He turned and strode to the Phantom, mounted and pulled his helmet on. A buzz of conversation erupted between his brothers before they turned back to him.

“What the hell do you mean, Jesse? What did you do to her? What did she do to you?” Beau had obviously been elected spokesperson. Maybe Rob was still under the influence of Lula’s “effect.”

“That, little brother, is none of your damn business.” He turned toward the house. “Lula. Front and center.”

The front door opened and Lula glided out, dressed in what she called her “riding” clothes: jean jacket and pants, blue chambray shirt, and her boots of course. They had searched for an hour in the pre-early-morning dawn to find where she had stashed her things. Jesse grinned at her. Who cared if they hadn’t gotten much sleep?

“Helmet, Lula.”

She produced the black skullcap and strapped it under her chin tightly. Walking down the stairs, she ignored the stunned expressions of his brothers who seemed to have turned to stone.

He hitched forward on the Phantom’s seat and Lula climbed on behind him, her arms snaking around his chest in a pleasantly tight grip.

“She’s not riding with us.” Beau had finally found his voice. “Have you lost your ever-lovin’ mind, Jess?”

“No. And she’s not riding with you, she’s riding with me.” He fixed Beau with a stare calculated to show him who was still the big hog around here. “You got a problem with that, little brother?”

Beau shot a glance at Rob, who was going to be about as firm as a limp dishrag. He waited a moment too long, then said, “Naw, I guess if you want to bring her along it’s a free country.” He fastened his gaze on Lula again, his eyes glittering like a cold wind blew out of them. He adjusted his grip on the Panhead. “As long as she understands some things aren’t free around here.”

“He probably wishes some things
were
free again.” Lula’s breath tickled his ear and her fingers raked his leather jacket lightly.

“Careful, Lula. It’s not too late for me to make soup out of you instead.” He’d have to keep an eye on her all the time. No telling what mischief this gal could get herself into.

“Just so long as you’re the only one who eats me.”

Jesse’s temperature soared. He revved the Phantom and sped out of the driveway. They’d better make this a damn short ride.

The End

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Hog Wild

Copyright © 2011 Jenna Jaxon

Cover art by Dee Dawning

All rights reserved.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are eighteen or older.

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