Sierra’s hand reaches down between my legs, finding the zipper to my pants easily. The sound excites me more than anything in this world, as I realize it’s finally my turn to get what I want. Her begging from before, along with her massive orgasm all over my face, has already gotten me more than ready to go. And as I pull my pants off my hips, I reach into my pants pocket and pull out one of the few condoms I keep for times like this. It slides on over my straight and hard cock with ease.
I pause to look around at the cabana’s bed. This isn’t right. I want to fuck her, that’s true. But I don’t want to do it here. I want to be in total control for this. I reach down and grab at her from behind and pull her into my chest so that her head rests upon my shoulders. I hold on tightly as I carry her quickly towards the wall. Her back slams against the cold cinderblocks, and I watch as she just manages to reach for the sides of red-painted shutters.
Even though she’s wet and ready, my cock still manages to surprise her with just how big and wide it really is. I hear her cry out in a mix of pain, wanting, and fear. It’s as if she’s practically asking me, “How are you going to fuck me with that thing?” Even just entering her makes her face twist, as if she feels as if she is about to explode.
She’s tighter than the average girl I take on, for sure. Her little pussy is practically untouched and new. It’s like opening a present that’s all mine for the taking. But I hold back, knowing that she needs to take this slow if we’re going to go long enough for both of us to get off again. The first few strides are decadent, as it simply explores her curves. I pull almost completely out, as both of us sigh heavily.
After a few moments, I see Sierra get comfortable with this. Her head rolls back and a soft, sweet moan comes through her lips. I hate that. I shock her by diving deep into her waiting pussy. My hands guide her curved hips down and out so that she circles around in midair. I can tell she’s never had anything that big inside of her, and it only makes me strike into her pussy further. Her hands practically pull the shutters off of their hinges, as I dig into the folds of her hot, wet pussy.
The moment is taking over both of us, transporting us out of this terrace and into our own world. Both of us are clawing, screaming, crashing as I guide it all with my shaft as my helm. Every push is more exhilarating, and every pull back makes her cry for more.
Both of us seem to have our bodies in perfect sync, as my spine curls over her. She leans forward enough so that her nose presses against my nose, our lips touch but do not kiss, and our eyes never part. She cums first, at least I think she does. Her arms hold on tighter, as she lets go of every bit of her mind for one perfect moment of ecstasy. And every part of me goes weak, as I follow close behind. My own body shakes and trembles, as my cum spills into her opening.
We look at one another again as we finish. Her lips part gently, as if she wants to say something important. But I don’t give her the chance. We linger there, each holding on to one another as we try to come back down to earth. I pull out of her and then lower her down enough to hitch her supple legs into my arms in an easy cradle. She holds onto my neck, as I walk her through the terrace and back to the bedroom from earlier.
I place her down on the yellow comforter and pull the sheets around her bare body. I then settle into the empty spot next to her, snuggling my head into the pile of her hair taking up the pillows. Neither of us have said a word since we both came together. I am speechless, totally unable to think of anything right to say if I could. But as she turns sleepily to my side, she murmurs, “Thank you…for helping me.”
***
I drift in and out of sleep, not wanting to be too far gone. As soon as the sun rises, I’m supposed to meet up with Guzman’s men and my boys to coordinate the handover. I pull the digital clock over to my side so I can watch the minutes slowly pass. While I want to savor this rare moment where a woman I actually enjoy is spread out on my chest, I just can’t get business off of my mind.
In days, maybe weeks, Abe will be coming after my territory. If that little punk thinks he can set me up and start a war in my name, he’s got another thing coming for him. I’m fucking Tank, the leader of one of America’s hardest, baddest MC gangs out there. Our roots go back to the Vietnam War, and it’s certainly not going to end because a crybaby wanna-be can’t get his shit straight and keep well-enough alone.
Tomorrow, I will ride back with Sierra’s arms wrapped around my waist. My only Aztec princess. I plan on holding her up to him as the girl he couldn’t get even though she was one of his own. That alone should set things in motion. He could never resist a fight over his own, foolish pride. Now this stretched beyond bad blood and turf breeches. I had something he wanted—something he was never, ever going to get.
The clock flashes five thirty. I slowly remove Sierra’s tan arm from around my chest. I move a pillow under her arm so that she can snuggle up to that while I’m gone. This should only take an hour or so, but I still don’t want to be caught sneaking out. While she has no business with these men, I still can’t help but feel that I am crossing some line I shouldn’t.
I walk out to the terrace and retrieve my clothing. Manuel is going to hate to clean up the mess we left. I make a mental note to leave him a couple hundred more when we head out. It was only fair. The guards, on the other hand, are just switching posts when I pass them. Neither says a word to me, which certainly doesn’t please me. Didn’t I say “No one in or out?” I’ll have to deal with that later.
My bike is gassed up and ready for me to ride, as I trace my trail back towards the Guzman fortress. As I commanded, the remaining men are waiting for me. They slowly make their way to me as they sip on their coffees and wipe the sleep out of their eyes. While we may be tough, none of us are used to beating the sun to work.
As we make a huddle, they wait for me to speak. I know it’s got to be good to justify the danger I’m about to put them in. “Apaches! There’s a war a brewing. Abe, our former fourth-in-command, thinks he can start a war. But I’m a step ahead of him. Our mission is to move an extra hundred kilos of stash.”
A murmur of assent and disbelief goes up. Everybody starts to get antsy at what I’m asking. I hold my hand up, silencing them in an instant. “I know what you’re thinking—that we can’t possibly do it. But Guzman has made us a deal. Drugs sold in exchange for men. We get this done and we won’t only be secure for when the Aztecs strike, we’ll also make history as the baddest club out there with a reach far bigger than our past brothers could have ever dreamed of!”
My rally cry stirs something up, as each of the men slowly stand up a bit taller, a bit prouder. Together, we turn to watch Guzman’s fortress gates open up. We walk our bikes in while the gunner car follows behind. The men load up in silence, neither of them wanting to ruin the moment.
A cry goes out, causing everyone to turn immediately. One of the guards, a young kid no older than sixteen, points towards a pillar nearby where we are standing. Guns are drawn, men shout in a mix of Spanish and English. I manage to walk towards the spot just in time to see Sierra with her arms above her head, tears streaking down her eyes.