Cutter
It was the MC's traditional night off from opening Farm to Fable in the morning, and the Vanguard clubhouse was in full swing when they got back. Cutter, normally always one for a party, didn't really appreciate it. They were supposed to be keeping a low profile while all this shit was going on. Not having a party out in front, complete with burning barrels and drunk club girls littering the parking lot.
Still, he had to admit he hadn't specifically told the guys not to have one. And, when you got down to it, it would actually be more suspicious if they didn't throw a party. That might get their usual attendees talking about changes going on in the club. Changes that very well might tip off Wyland as to where Liona might be hiding.
Engine idling, he walked his rumbling bike through the crowd of revelers to his parking spot through the crowd of revelers. Liona shifted around in her seat, her head whipping back and forth, as they moved through the crowd.
“Oh, my god,” she said, amazed by the array of people, “this is fucking insane.”
“Ain't even midnight, yet,” Cutter said, trying to suppress a grin. “Things don't get really going till closer to two.”
They got down off Cutter's bike, and he ushered her inside and away from the madness. There weren't ticket takers at this kind of thing, no one checking ID's. There was no telling what kind of person could just walk up and scope out the place. Liona was safer inside, away from the noise and all the potential interlopers.
“You guys have these a lot?” she shouted as they pushed their way through the crowded entry and into the densely-packed rec room. He had a hand on her as they threaded their way through the mass of people.
“Every week,” he shouted back as he pulled her along in his wake. “Gotta let the boys blow off some steam, you know?”
“Just some steam?” she shouted back, a grin growing on her lips. “This is worse than the keggers in college!”
They entered the rec room and headed back to the hallway that led through to the bunks. All manner of people packed the place: freaks, punks, bikers, you name it. But most of them all had two common denominators: black leather and tattoos. Here, Liona stuck out like a pure near-virginal thumb.
“Frat boys are fucking pansies,” Cutter shouted back, a big grin spreading on his lips.
As much as he knew he needed to protect Liona, that she was his priority, he still wanted to stay out here in the hustle and bustle of the drunken crowd. He might need the couple hours’ silence in the morning, but he needed this kind of release in the same way. Drinking beer with your buddies, cheering on the college-aged girls doing body shots off each other, all with the loudest music a person had ever heard pumping through the heart of the building, the bass thumping like a giant heavy metal heart.
Indulging in those baser impulses of his made him feel alive, just like racing down the highway with Liona on the back of his bike did. But, priorities were priorities. They turned the corner and he led her down the hallway, back to his bunk. Familiar faces greeted him, clapped him on the back. People from the bar he and the guys frequented, and even the occasional customer from the restaurant.
He pushed the door that led into his bunk, dragged Liona inside, and firmly shut the door behind him. Thanks to the huge amounts of sound proofing he'd installed, the party outside the walls quieted to a dull roar they didn't need to shout over in order to be heard. He tossed his jacket and vest over the seat of his chair and went to his dresser, pulled out his bottle of bourbon.
“Sorry about the party,” he said as he pulled down a shot glass from his shelf. “Didn't even think about it being tonight.” He poured a shot for himself.
She tossed her backpack over in the corner, on top of his coat. “Why be sorry?” she asked as she sidled up next to him and slipped a lithe arm around his waist.
He could already feel the fires building as she touched his body, just like the night before. “Just, the noise and all. You don't seem much like the partying type.”
She reached down and snatched up his shot before he could take it. “What makes you think I'm such a goody two-shoes?” she asked, her lower lip pouting as they locked eyes. She grinned and took the shot, winced and shook her head against the burn.
Cutter laughed. “Kinda what I always liked about you,” he said, taking the glass from her and pouring himself a drink, “that's all.”
“Well,” she said, “what if I told you the best part about all the noise is that it just means no one else can hear us?”
He laughed again, slipping his arm around her waist and pulling her close to him. He tilted her chin up to his, bringing their lips closer together. “Then I'd tell you that you ain't been doing it right all these years.”
Recovered from the kick of the bourbon, she smiled as her lust-filled eyes burned with need. He leaned down as he pulled Liona to him, crushed her lips with his. His kiss was firm, insistent, and she quickly parted her lips for his tongue. The taste of the liquor on her was a strange aphrodisiac, bizarrely stimulating to him.
She pressed her body into his, her breasts flattening against his chest as he gripped her tighter around the waist and let his free hand begin to roam over her firm body. The swell of her hips, the fullness of her breasts. Even though he'd hardly touched them before yesterday, it was like returning to an old, forgotten friend.
“I missed you for all those years,” he growled. “Thought about you every day.”
She smiled a little, kissed him again.
He groaned as she slid her tongue into his mouth, quickly, briefly, before biting his lower lip as she pulled away. His eyes flickered between her lips and her gaze for a moment, then he grabbed her hand and led her over to the bed. “And, now that I've got you here ...” he said as he pulled her along.
Willingly, she let herself be pulled along. “Going to show me how much you missed me?” she asked.
He could feel his excitement growing, straining against his jeans. More than anything, he wanted her writhing beneath his touch, wanted to feel the softness of her skin, and her strong legs wrapped around his back. He turned and kissed her again, this time more forcefully, then pushed her down onto the edge of the bed. “Something like that,” he said.
She reached up, grabbed him by the front of his shirt, and pulled his lips down to hers. They kissed again, their hands tearing at each other's clothes. Their breath fast and panting between kisses, and soon she had him stripped down to just his boxer briefs, and he had her stripped to her bra and panties.
His hands ran over her smooth skin, caressing and kneading her flesh, loving the way she felt beneath them. His lips covered her body, and she arched into his kisses and bites. She purred beneath his attention, pulled him onto his bed as she backed onto it. He crawled onto the bed after her, his hand slipping between her thighs and she spread her legs for him with a whimper, inviting him to move higher. He edged his hand higher, teasing her with his fingertips. Heat was rolling off her, enticing him to go higher and higher, to find her hidden treasure. She bit his lip again, thrust her hips a little to try and encourage his continued climb.
Cutter grinned, loving how responsive she was. He kissed her again as he slipped a hand behind her back and began to unhook her bra. He began to unfasten her piece of lingerie, began to unveil those orbs he'd admired the night before. Suddenly, someone knocked on his door.
Frustrated, they both sighed, then smiled at each other in spite of everything.
“What?” Cutter roared back over his shoulder at the door. “Who the fuck is it?”
The voice said something, but Cutter couldn't hear it over the music.
“Who?” he roared again.
“Rachel!” the visitor yelled through the door.
Rachel. One of the club girls who always draped themselves all over him until he gave them the dick they were begging for. She was pretty enough, slight like Liona, but with great hips and an innocent looking smile. But something about her just drove him up the wall if he saw her more than a couple days in a row. He couldn't quite put his finger on whatever it was, but something just didn't feel right. Of course, there were other things about her that felt just fine. But not like Liona.
“Rachel?” Liona asked.
“Just one of the club girls,” he said dismissively. He went to get up, to pull some pants on and send her packing on her way. He was occupied, after all. “Coming,” he yelled. “I'll get rid of her.”
Liona, though, had other ideas. She gestured for him to move, and hopped off the bed wearing just her underwear. There was just something about her gesture, about the quiet strength of it that he just immediately paid attention to. It reminded him, almost, of the girl he remembered from high school. It was like a return to that “take no shit” attitude he'd been so intrigued by all those years ago. She strode over to the door, her beautiful ass swaying from side to side with each step. Before Cutter could stop her, she'd thrown open the door.
Music rolled back into the room, filling it to the brim, as the door flew open. And there in the hallway, leaning up against the frame of the door, stood Rachel, arms crossed. “Hey, big boy,” Rachel said, as if on cue, before she realized Cutter wasn't the one opening the door. Rachel stood up straight and made a scrunched-up face as she looked the half-naked Liona up and down. “Who the fuck are you, bitch?”
“Bitch?” Liona sneered. “I'm who's fucking Cutter. Who the fuck are you?”
“I'm—” Rachel started to say.
Liona didn't bother to hear her out. She just slammed the door in her face and flipped the deadbolt in place. She turned back around and started back for the bed. She strutted back to him, rolling her hips as she walked. He realized that something inside her had changed in that moment. Cutter could just stare up at her as she approached, could just watch the subtle movements of her body.
“Fucking bitch!” Rachel screamed from the other side of the door, before kicking the bottom of it like a spoiled, petulant child.
Liona ignored the club girl as she strutted back to the bed, rolling her hips with each step. “You ready for this?” she asked with a wicked grin.
Cutter grinned up at her and nodded. “Definitely.”
She reached behind her and unsnapped her bra and crawled back onto the edge of the bed. He reached a hand down and grabbed her, dragging her back up to his lips. They embraced again, their hands returning to their previous explorations. He slipped a hand down between her thighs, slid his fingers beneath her drenched panties. She reached inside his underwear, wrapped her hand around his cock. She ran her thumb over the head, swirling it. They groaned into each other's mouths as they felt each other, as they realized how excited they were to be together again.
She grabbed the top of his waist band and began to drag his underwear down around his hips and he likewise pulled at her panties. Together, they struggled and writhed out of their remaining clothes, desperate to be together, to be joined. She succeeded in removing his, first, and his cock sprang to attention, desperate for her continued touch.
She smiled as she rolled on her back and lifted her hips up, letting him pull hers off. Completely naked, they kissed again, their bodies warm and needful as they clung together.
“Please,” she begged, her eyes desperate, “just fuck me. I want to feel you in me.”
He growled his own want and reached down to guide his cock to her slick opening. He pressed himself to her sopping wet lips, the head of his cock parting them easily. She bit her lip and nodded as her hands traced fire up and down his back, the nails scraping across his bare skin like the points of knives. Sensation shot through his body, pure unadulterated pleasure, as he slid part of the way into her. His mouth opened a little, his breath coming faster and more raggedly, as he gripped her hips.
She thrust her hips forward, encouraging him. “Please,” she pleaded, again.
He shoved harder, pushing into her., sliding all the way into her in one long, deep stroke. He didn't stop till be bottomed out in her, his heavy balls resting against her perfect ass.
Liona's eyes rolled back as she pressed her head back into the mattress. “Oh fuck,” she groaned, dragging out each word till she could almost no longer breathe. She arched her hips into him, grinding herself on the base of his cock, pressing her clit against him. She lifted her legs and hooked them over his ass, began to pull him in and out of her.
They moved against each other like that, panting as they made out, grinding their bodies against each other. It was fueled by need, a need to find sense in everything around them. Liona dug her nails into Cutter's back, digging red lines over his skin as he drove into her harder and faster. He pulled back his lips, dipped his head down and sucked an erect nipple between his lips, nipped it lightly with his teeth. She pressed herself into his mouth, her whole body shaking as he continued to plow into her. Her abs contracted, her breasts shook, her mouth opened and closed of its own volition. Her walls tightened around his cock, massaging him, as she came hard, her whole body lifting on the mattress and going rigid.
Grunting and grinning, he kissed her again. “Did you like that?” he asked before attacking her neck with his flashing teeth and flicking tongue.
“Oh, God, do it again,” she panted out, then groaned. “Here,” she said as she pushed against his chest, “I have an idea.”
“What?” Cutter asked.
He could feel himself getting closer to popping, and his instincts were kicking in. He couldn't think of anything he wanted more than to just grab hold of her shoulders and fuck the hell out of her.
“I want on top,” she said, pushing him again, and not stopping till he gave in and rolled over.
Still connected in the most intimate way possible, Cutter rolled over on his back and dragged her on top of him. He popped another nipple in his mouth, smiling as he suckled delightedly at it. He rested his hands on her hips, but didn't exert any pressure. She'd wanted to be on top, it was up to her to decide the tempo and depth of their fucking.
Now supporting herself on her knees, she began to move on top of him. Smiling down at him, she drew herself off his cock till the tip had just barely left her, then she'd slide all the way back to the base. She stroked him from tip to bottom this way as they continued to kiss and caress each other. When they weren't kissing, their eyes remained locked by a mutual unspoken accord.
Each time she pulled herself off and descended again, it was like a long slow stroke from a velvet glove. The feel of his head parting her lips each time, and so slowly, was one of the most intense, pleasurable feelings he'd ever experienced in his entire life. He could feel it down in his feet, this tingle passion that nearly shook his whole body.
“Like that?” she asked as he sucked in another sharp breath.
It was like he was looking into her soul, plumbing her depths with more than just his manhood. “Goddamn your pussy feels amazing,” he gasped out, not knowing what else to say.
“Your dick feels pretty damned good, too,” she said, kissing him again.
He wanted to say it, then. The words. But he couldn't. Not now, not in case she threw them back in his face later. Besides, it didn't matter, none of that mattered. What mattered was that the most beautiful woman ever, inside and out, was moving on top of him, and giving him something he’d never experienced.
They kissed again, and she began to speed up the movements of her hips. She rubbed just the right way on his cock, and moaned loudly into his mouth again. He grabbed her hips hard, now, sensing that this was the moment to take control back. She wanted it to be deep, he could tell, wanted to have it hit all the right spots inside her. He began to move her up and down his cock, could feel her dripping wet lips as they stretched over him, clung to him on each stroke.
“Oh,” she groaned again, “please, Des, please fuck me.”
He noticed her use of his real name, but didn't mention it. Something about it at this moment, as they melted into one another like this, began to feel right. It was like she was poking through the defenses he'd built, burrowing through the bulwarks and barriers he'd erected over the years. He thrust up off the bed, driving deep into her, grinding his hips so the base of his cock stimulated her clit. She trembled and shook again, just like before. She cried out one more time before biting down hard on his shoulder. His hand moved from hips to ass, pulling her more fully under his control. He bounced her on his cock, moving her bodily up and down like a featherweight as he thrust up to meet each downward stroke.
She cried out again around the meat of his shoulder at first, before biting down harder than before and digging her nails into his flesh. He could feel it. He was so close to climaxing, so closing to filling her. Sweat poured from their bodies as he pivoted harder into her. “I'm coming,” he said, finally, pounding into her as he slammed her back down onto his hard length, filling her.
“Please, please,” she begged, moaning, her body practically vibrating as she shook in his arms.
He tensed up as pleasure erupted in his body and he felt himself empty into her. His vision seemed to fade to black as his whole body thrummed with energy. He'd never cum like this before, and his whole body seemed to spasm as he pumped into Liona and exhausted himself into her. She seemed to greedily eat him up, pulsating and throbbing around him, milking him as he thrust into her. They cried out together, pulling each other close as they blasted off into orbit.
“Oh,” Cutter groaned as he released his hold on her ass, “oh my God.”
“Yeah,” Liona whispered back in his ear, awe in her voice as she was shaken by after tremors. “That was just ...”
“Yeah,” Cutter said, finishing the nonexistent thought. He didn't know how to finish it, didn't think he'd ever be able to. It was like a little part of him had found fulfillment just then, as they were bound together, then lost it. She rolled off him and collapsed on the bed, beside him. She ran a hand over his chest and cuddled up against his side. He put an arm around her and pulled her close, not caring about how damp their bodies were in the cool air. All that mattered was that as much skin as possible was touching. Just like the night before, she seemed to fit against him, like her body was made for his.
She kissed him on the cheek and nuzzled into his neck. “Like having me on top?” she asked.
“God yes,” he said, grinning like a lovesick schoolboy.
He almost said it again, but he bit back the words. It was too soon. Even after almost a decade, the wounds still felt fresh. Especially with the way she'd pierced through the chinks in his armor when she'd called out his name. It wasn't like him to think this way, and he wasn't completely sure on how to proceed. Things had been simpler before Liona had come along, that was for sure. That said, though, he wasn't sure simple was necessarily a good thing. Maybe complicated was okay, too. The euphoria he was feeling, though, was more than enough help when it came to pushing these thoughts away.
“Sleep now?” she asked from beside him, her voice muscled by his shoulder.
“Sleep,” he agreed. Tomorrow was Monday. And that meant it was going to be a long, trying day.