3. Sid
SID
“ O h fuck.” Abi’s eyes roll into the back of her head as sweat drips down her thick thighs.
Lowering my head back down, I inhale deeply, and the smell of her sweet skin tickles my nose.
My lips are as swollen as hers as I kiss them before lapping her clit with my tongue.
Three fingers continue to work her pulsating pussy; I took off a couple of my nails so I wouldn’t tear her cunt apart with them.
Heavy breathing continues. “Fuck, baby… There. Don’t stop,” Abi moans as if I haven’t done this to her a hundred times before. I know what makes my girl tick. Her legs, which are hanging over my shoulders, move to wrap around my neck tightly.
She’s almost there, and I smirk to myself in satisfaction.
As her pelvis begins to grind, using my face to get off, I wrap my lips around the devil’s doorknob and suck hard. Abi’s cunt grips my fingers tightly, my teeth teasing her sensitive nerves and sending her to the brink.
Just as her body tenses, I move my mouth and prepare for her sweet nectar. Tremors follow, Abi’s legs vibrate around me, and her fingers grip my hair, yearning for control that I will not relent.
Cum coats my fingers, and before her orgasm subsides, I pull them out of her and replace them with my mouth and tongue.
I lap her relentlessly, with the need to milk every last drop out of her.
I’m fucking feral as my taste buds ignite in satisfaction.
The harder she pulls my hair, the more I crave making her weak for me.
Giving in to me and every fucking desire.
She doesn’t own me. I own her.
Her body begins to relax as I hollow my cheeks and begin sucking her cum out.
But I don’t swallow.
Moving my face back slightly, I look up, through my long lashes I find her green eyes.
White blonde hair is fanned out all around her glowing body, and her nipples are hard.
Tickling up Abi’s beautiful legs, I grip her thighs and gently move them off my shoulders before placing her legs down on either side of me.
Leaning forward, I see her nipples are hard as my breasts skim along her skin, goosebumps following, as she shivers. My pouty lips connect to hers, and I feed her. A low groan follows from her throat as she devours her own release. My pussy aches in satisfaction.
Whispering against her lips, my words are soft but true, “See, this is why I am so fucking addicted to you. You taste like Sunday mornings outside, after the midnight rain.”
“I love you, Sin,” she whispers back.
Sin is short for Sinclair. When I was little, people would call me baby Sin, because I am so much like my daddy, but behind it all, I have a lot of my mom in me too.
I kiss my girl hard before sitting up and admiring the curvy perfection sprawled out before me.
I’ve never been one to say it back, as verbalizing affection has always made me feel uncomfortable. You will know how I feel by my actions. And these actions, which have resulted in cum dripping down my chin, help show her how much I care.
My focus stays on her as racing thoughts begin to consume me.
We’ve been together for a couple of years and every part of me wishes that this, and us, will stay like this for a few decades more. That nothing will taint us, the spark won’t dull and that love will conquer all. I refuse to let my job kill us.
These thoughts of optimism, happiness and the future help mask the memories of pain from this afternoon. Suppression at its finest. But I do wish my dreams for us come true.
“Baby, let’s go on a date tomorrow, just you and me,” I blurt out. Abi giggles, nodding her head yes. Leaning over her, my lips brush against hers. “What? Too tired to speak?” I tease back, and just before she can respond, a phone vibrates on the nightstand.
Closing my eyes, I’m annoyed. Today has been one of the hardest days, and all I wanted to do was to get lost in my girlfriend's pussy and then take her on a fucking date.
“It’s mine,” she mumbles, knowing I'm pissed.
I know it’s fucking hers. It’s always her phone going off.
When I take over things, I will be amending her work schedule drastically, because this is bullshit.
The hard plastic grinds against the wood surface like nails running slowly against a chalkboard as it continues to vibrate- knowing I fucking hate that sound.
It makes my blood boil, only adding to my frustration.
Clenching my fists, I use every ounce of energy I have to not punch another hole into the wall behind her.
Abi sighs, picking the phone up and reading the message. “I have to go.”
Obviously.
“It’s work. If anyone should understand, it’s you.” Ouch. Her words sting and a direct reaction to my attitude.
The low blow is fair, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.
“I know. I just…” I pause to gather my thoughts… my feelings. “I just needed you today.” I squeeze my eyes tighter as images of Millie rotate in my mind.
You will not cry. You are not a pussy , I keep repeating to myself .
The bed shifts, a soft hand cup my face and whispers of reassurance follow. “I know, baby. I promise I will make it up to you. I always do, don’t I?” Her voice goes all cutesy, something I can never resist. I nod as she kisses my forehead gently and whispers against my skin, “I love you.”
We stay like this for a few moments. I feel so good, my body is warm from her connection. Abi calms me like no one else can.
Then like that, she is gone. The warmth follows her and I am now all alone.
Her feet pad against the hardwood floor, followed by the closing of the bathroom door.
Falling forward onto the mattress, I cuddle into myself, naked, needing to get lost in the comfort of her scent left behind on the pillow.
Heavy eyes stay closed as I begin to drift away.
Exhaustion wants to take over, and today, I allow it, just this once.
The slamming of the front door awakens me from my unconscious state.
My body is heavy, fully relaxed on top of the bedsheets where I lay, still naked.
Opening my eyes, I peek around the room.
It’s dark and quiet. The only sound audible is that of my pigs sleeping peacefully in their beds only feet away from me.
Before I allow my body to return to sleep, my bladder has another plan.
Annoyed, I crawl out of bed and begin to make my way over to the bathroom.
Before I’m able to make it all the way, my phone goes off this time.
“Fuck’s sake.”
Turning around, I search the bed until I find it. The bright light is almost blinding. Squinting as my eyes adjust, I see it’s Papa.
Boss Man
All heads meeting.
Saluting the phone, then scratching my head, I mutter, “Aye, aye, captain.” Before replying back to him;
Boss Bitch
Roger that, Papa bear.
He doesn’t respond, surely too busy rounding up the rest of the crew.
Throwing my phone down, I spin and head to the bathroom and flick the light on. Looking in the mirror, I am disheveled, a fucking mess, actually. Mascara smudged all down my cheeks, lipstick stained around my mouth with dry cum, and my eyebrows are fucking gone.
Papa is going to have to wait because this bitch needs a shower.
Looking over myself once more, I shake my head, I wonder if they realize what they have gotten themselves into with me.
They have been training me my entire life, and this is who I am. And I am going to take advantage of this tiny allowance of wiggle room while I can, to be just on time.
As the next leader of The Devil’s Society, giving in to sleep, grief, or anything other than my work will never be an option again.
Skipping out of the house in my platform high-tops and a tight white tee tucked into my nineteen fifties high-waisted black shorts embellished with gold buttons, rustic Victorian lanterns greet me, lining my driveway with candles.
The night's warm breeze dances along my skin and through my hair, which is in small victory rolls and long waves.
I inhale the evening's fresh scent of mountain air and stand in the moment until I exhale.
Solace.
Opening my eyes, I look around the property, my little piece of land within the big scheme of things.
On my family's estate, I take in the beauty I’ve surrounded myself with.
Large hanging willow trees, black iron fencing to match the outdoor furniture, old yard sculptures which most would call morbid, and cobblestones. All of which bring me immense joy.
Walking down the wide stone steps, a white piece of paper on the hood of my black Bentley SUV catches my attention, causing me to pause.
My finger taps my chin. Color me curious .
Strolling closer, my eyes squint through my oversized black cat-eye glasses, which are purely for aesthetics.
Interesting.
Reaching across the hood to the naked body on top of it, I yank the paper from the grips of the staples. Shaking off the excess blood, I see the edges have been burnt and the writing is done in ash.
We see you when you're sleeping.
Rolling my eyes, I fold the delicate paper and slide it into my front pocket.
Moving around to the other side of my car, I take hold of the long bright pink hair which has become familiar to me.
A new initiate. She joined the society by choice and was on her way to go places with us.
She was a favorite among the pharma groups.
She is, or was, Tash; rest in peace. I do the catholic cross over my chest out of respect, I don’t do religion, but maybe she did?
This girl sold better than pharma’s own sales reps could here.
And because of that, she helped us in landing the highest percentage of the take anyone has ever had in our town's history.
The one pharma group we allow in, can sell to our hospital, pharmacies, and physicians, but we demand a fat stack of cash, demanding forty-five percent of the profit .
And we only had one rule: No Opioids.
And if they didn’t like our terms, we would make their demise painful while smiling as we watched them burn.
They all know, if we take a meeting, it’s a gift, an opportunity that we could give to millions of other pharmaceutical companies.
They would jump for the chance of gaining our territory, but if we take your meeting, you listen and you accept it.
Papa was prepared to ask for twenty-five percent, Tash interjected, said fuck that, and closed at fourty-five.
What a fucking shame. It will take another lifetime to find someone like her again.
She was rare.
There are many different unspoken rules you learn growing up in the society, and one of the biggest is, you can’t grow attached to people in this lifestyle. People come and go, funerals and unmarked graves are the norm, but shit, she fucking had a young child with no dad in the picture.
Peering closer at her exposed body, just below her breasts is a large incision.
Two lines make one upside-down cross. The small Devil’s Society brand, which was so beautifully decorating her abdomen is gone, replaced by a circle of shredded skin and exposed muscle.
Looking down, I gaze at mine on the palm of my hand, allowing my mind to wander- as it often does, naturally.
The OGs of the society aren’t marked, it’s something initiates, also known as ‘The Damned’ started doing a few years ago.
I wanted to show how serious I was about making this my life, so I joined them one night and got it in the worst imaginable place.
Hurt like a motherfucker, but I earned their respect with one simple gesture.
It’s one thing I will never regret, never.
As the memory fades, so does the phantom pain that begins to throb at the thought of it all.
Moving closer, my eyes squint and my nose scrunches, “What a fucking mess,” I mumble in disgust to myself.
The fresh cuts along Tash’s flesh have been cauterized, making it impossible to tell what kind of knife or tool made the incision. Meaning, I may never know who did this.
Examining the rest of her, I can’t make out any other wounds thanks to the dim lighting. Just the staples left behind from the note remain, a glint of shine bounces off the moonlight.
Removing my glasses, I bite the plastic arm and stare off into the dark distance of the night. Raising my brows, I tap my toe, curious indeed.