Tia

The Atlantic was chilly, but Tia McBride was used to a lot worse. And she wasn’t the only one out on the waves that day, riding the big ones pushed in from a nor’easter off the coast of Greenland. The salty breeze cut into her nostrils, so different from the smells of the city. There was no stink or stench, or fumes or fatigue. Just off the coast of the North Cove Marina, she was in the throws of the natural world, removed from the grit and glamor, restored to her true self, relaxed, at one with Mother Earth.

But Tia also knew she was no safer out there than back in the city. Because just as in Manhattan, or anywhere, predators lurked just beneath the surface. Killers abounded unseen, and they struck with suddenness and terrible certainty, with skills Tia couldn’t match.

And they were coming for her.

Goose bumps rose without warning on her arms—her long, red hair wet and stuck to her pale skin but unable to conceal those little bumps. Her freckles were no disguise either.

Go back, she told herself, go back now! Something’s not right—something in the air. This was a mistake. It’s not too late, if I can get back to the shore. They could be there too, I suppose, or anywhere, just waiting to strike.

Tia looked around suddenly, a sound tricking her anxiety. What was that? Just the lap of a wave, or something else, something terrible—or someone?

The push of water beneath her confirmed it. Something was swimming up to her from below, and it was too close to try to swim away.

Too late, she told herself, knowing that whatever it was, she was its next victim.

It grabbed her ankle, pressure also against her upper calf, just below the knee. Tia couldn’t feel any teeth, but with the hard yank that pulled her sideways off the board and into the water, she just couldn’t be sure. Tia sucked in an instinctive breath of air even as her world went dark—salty water surrounding her, eyes burning as she tried to make out the source of the commotion around her.

Not a shark, Tia could tell, a man, two men! Pulling me deeper. Can’t breathe!

The dark sheen of their wetsuits marked their swift and coordinated movements. One man reached around Tia from behind, his one hand grabbing her wrist and holding it across her body, her other arm wedged between her body and his. His free hand jammed an oxygen mask over her face, a stream of bubbles disappearing as soon as he clamped it over her mouth and nose.

The other man held her legs, long and shapely and toned but not nearly strong enough to pull out of his powerful grip. Tia twisted and writhed, the water hampering her futile struggle to escape. She pulled one leg free and gave the man beneath her a hard kick, nearly dislodging his mask and respirator. But with his other hand on her ankle, he pulled himself closer and locked his arms around her calves, pinning them together.

Tia twisted between them, her slick wet flesh slippery and writhing. She bucked and flinched, but it was hopeless. The men swam her away—the sight of her surfboard floating on the surface behind and above them her last possibility of escape.

They swam farther on, Tia calming. She could breathe—they were forcing her to—so she knew they weren’t going to kill her, at least not yet. No, Tia knew, this isn’t a murder, this is a kidnapping.

They didn’t go far, swimming her back up toward the surface after just a few minutes. The massive shape of their destination loomed above—massive and dark—foreboding. They broke the surface near the hull, and the man behind her pulled the respirator from her mouth. Tia instantly screamed, a few disinterested crew members glancing down at her, one or two shaking their heads and sloughing off to go about their business. This wouldn’t be the first time they’d see such a thing, and it wouldn’t be the last.

“Let go of me, you fucking bastards! Lemme go!”

The one behind her pulled his own respirator out. “Just take it easy, lady; you won’t get hurt.” He dragged her to the little ladder hanging over the side. The first man climbed, the second holding Tia’s wrist. She saw it as her only chance of an escape, even if it wasn’t much of one. She looked up at the yacht, impressive in scale, clean and well-kept. Its owner had wealth and power, not to mention a new plaything.

“Climb it.” But she simply spat in his face and sneered. “Climb it or I’ll drown you here and now!” Tia looked at him, big and ruddy-faced, his partner looking down from the deck of the yacht. He was grinning at the notion, and not at that notion alone.

Tia climbed the ladder, feeling the lusty glances of the crew above and her kidnappers below. One of the crew, a small Asian woman, looked on with bitter sternness as Tia climbed the ladder.

Despite the cold water, Tia was only wearing a bikini, and she felt vulnerable and exposed as she climbed the ladder. She knew they were eyeing her breasts—high and perky—two of her most favorite glorious assets. She arrived on the deck and her first assailant grabbed her upper arm, his fingers hard and gruff. She tried to pull her arm away, but he held tight. The other man climbed up the ladder and to the deck, grabbing Tia’s other arm. She threw a kick at him, her left foot into his left knee, but it was ineffectual. The man merely grunted as the two dragged her toward the cabin door, then shoved her in and locked the door behind them.

Tia just stood there as the men took off their air tanks and weight belts. “All right,” she said, “what the hell is all his about? You don’t just snatch people out of the ocean like that! Who owns this barge? Who are you two working for?”

They didn’t say a thing, simply setting down their equipment and then peeling off their wetsuits. Their bodies were thick and strong, rippling with muscle. One was a bit more lean than the other, but each was in serious condition, and their buzz cuts indicated their military background, something that was evident in the execution of her abduction. They were fast and efficient and coordinated. They’d planned their move and struck with irresistible force.

But Tia wasn’t dead yet.

“All right,” she said with an aggressive grin, “you guys want a piece of me, is that it? You boys wanna go for a little ride?” They looked at each other, slightly confused as they pulled down their black swim trunks, massive cocks spilling out, already becoming erect. But Tia only licked her lips and dropped to her knees. “Let’s ride!”

She grabbed one cock in each hand and started pumping. Tia’s hands strained to wrap around each of those growing erections, blood filling them to capacity as they rose up to meet her. Tia put one cock into her mouth, the salty taste of the ocean and the rubber seal of his wetsuit giving him a savory flavor that made her mouth water. She dropped her tongue to make more room for the huge head, rubbing against the roof of her mouth as she slipped in as far as she could, still pumping the shaft. Her other hand remained busy, twisting and pulling and squeezing the other man’s rock-hard cock, both their balls jiggling.

The men stood with their legs splayed, hips thrust, amazed and amused at their lovely captive as she willingly worked them, not to mention her incredible skill. But this was an enterprise in which Tia McBride was well-experienced, and she was going to give these two an orgasm that would change their lives, and might even save hers.

She switched from one cock to the other, coating the head with her saliva, licking the smooth undercarriage, the hairless skin pulled tight over his long, reedy member. It was just a little smaller than the other, and Tia could take it in even farther, almost to mid-shaft, her throat opening to make room for that salty cock as if she intended to swallow it in a single, massive bite. Unable to breathe, Tia pulled herself off the man’s cock and pressed it against her face, nuzzling it, kissing it, blowing little streams of cooling air on its spit-slicked surface.

The man jutted a bit, uneasy in his stance, and his flinching prick told Tia that he was already getting ready to cum. She turned back to the other, his cock not quite as quick to finish. But what Tia had in mind requires some coordination of her own, and every bit as much skill. He pressed her face against the man’s cock, pushing it flat against his own hairless abdomen. She pushed her face into his crotch, his rod stiff between them, slippery with her saliva. With her hand now free, Tia could cup his balls and give them a squeeze even while she kept yanking the other man’s cum-ready cock.

Tia went back to the shaft, working both men with the same regular rhythm, in perfect sync, working that pair of pricks with eagerness as she looked up at the men, reading their expressions. “C’mon, boys, c’mon, cum for me! Cum all over me, you two!”

“I’m cumming,” the one man said, barely able to remain on his feet.

“Not yet, you pussy,” Tia screamed. She turned and leaned over, biting into the second man’s muscular abs. He yelled, quickly stifling it into a grunt. But the expression had been enough of a trigger to send the man’s body into release. A blur of pumping and Tia could feel the man’s cock pulse, ready to explode.

“Now, both of you, cum for me! Cum, you dickless pussies; cum!” Tia could feel the hot flow in each man’s dick, one charging down his shaft just before the other. Tia pulled them a bit closer and aimed those cocks directly at her face. The first spat out its wad, an eruption of cum that splashed onto Tia’s cheeks, chin, into her thirsty, gaping mouth. The other burst forth too, both cocks heaving their packages at her, coating her face and her lapping tongue. She pulled and squeezed, milking every last drop of that precious pearlescent potion from each of them, spreading it over her face with their cocks and then licking it up from their cum-covered dicks.

The men groaned and shuddered, one leaning over to support himself on a small end table, the little lamp tilting a bit but not quite falling over. They went soft as Tia lapped up the last of their juices. She leaned over and wiped her face on one of the man’s upper thighs, its muscles twitching just a bit under the skin.

“Help me up,” she said, and the two men each took an arm to lift her. But the force of their grip was much more relaxed, the menace in their expressions completely gone. Tia dropped her bikini top and panties, her round breasts firm and proud, her shaved pussy glistening and ready. “Now it’s my turn. You, pick me up.” He shook his head, confused by her vague command and still stunned by his own raging orgasm. Tia rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Pick me up, flip me over, and eat me out!”

The man put his hands on her hips. She was lean and much smaller than he—the bigger of the two men. Tia leaned hard to the side to help the man clumsily turn her over, upside-down, and lifted her so that her crotch was at his face. Tia put her hands on the man’s thick, hard, hairless thighs, supporting herself even as he held her, her legs reaching up and bending back at the knees, languid and idle.

He was good, a fast tongue running a blurring pattern over her wet pussy, flush with excitement from her abduction and their creamy satisfaction. Her lips clenched and quivered around his probing tongue as it sank deeper, pausing within her before a little wet waggle sent her own juices stirring.

“You,” she said to the other man, standing in astonishment, his dick getting hard again at the spectacle. “Lick my ass!”

The man was quick to respond, stepping up to Tia from behind, hands on her smooth cheeks. She’d been in the ocean and she knew she was clean, and judging by his own performance, this was a man who knew what he was doing.

The flurry of two tongues at once sent a shiver through Tia’s body. She reached back, putting one hand on the other man’s thigh for better support, her body quivering as the duel treatment of her lower body escalated. She was sandwiched between the two men, their long cocks dangling all around her head, their musk rising up to fill her nostrils, intoxicating her even behind the dizziness of blood rush to the head.

Tia’s fingers dug into their splayed legs, her own gently swaying between the heads of her two kidnappers, their tongues a chaotic competition on both sides of her crotch. She felt as if each man was trying to out-do the other, faster and more frenzied, each man using all his skills and experience. Her pussy was throbbing with heat as he breathed his energy into it, his tongue finding her G-spot and drilling it with that soft, wet muscle—flexible and surprisingly powerful.

From behind, Tia’s ass was clenching and pulling even as the man spread those cheeks farther apart. The combination of push and pull was a terrific contrast—that hot tongue pushing into her smallest and most tender point.

Vibrations rose, Tia’s orgasm unwilling to wait any longer. The cum had been days in waiting, anticipating. That was part of the thrill, and a huge part of the payoff. So when that orgasm finally erupted, it came with a body-shaking power. The combination of the gravity pulling her down, the blood filling her brain, and cum welling up in her body brought Tia close to the point of passing out. Air seeped out of her lungs—compressed, hard to breathe in. Her eyesight went blurry, legs jutting with the twitch of her sex nerves, that orgasm churning and bristling inside her, both buried deep and still right on the surface.

Tia’s body shook, her hand slipping from one of the man’s thighs as her sense of place and time escaped her. Her mind was focused entirely on her body, and her body entirely on her pussy, that volcanic explosion just behind it, nerves on fire.

“Enough,” she commanded, blindly getting another handhold on one man’s leg, “that’s enough.” They carefully righted her, Tia unsteady as her senses scrambled to retake control. Her body was still trembling just a bit, but her lungs managed to pull in enough air to speak, her brain calming enough to find just the right words.

Tia didn’t even bother putting the bikini back on. Walking past them and turning with a smile, she said, “Okay, you’re both hired.” Then she turned to saunter across the cabin and to the shower. “Now get the fuck off my yacht.”