Devil In The Waters, Book 5, Chapter 8 (complete)

Skirt pulled to her waist, panties circling her thighs, she rolled a look around the edge of the archway to peer into the alley toward the Dragon’s patio. She and Devlin were still alone.

Devlin palmed her bare ass cheeks, his thumb stroked the wet folds of her pussy while her mind frantically searched for a way out of this despite how much she wanted it. Wished, in a way, to have seen movement, someone coming, some definitive reason they must stop . . . A reason Devlin must put his cock back in his pants, must pull up her panties and let her skirt drop. But there wasn’t . . . 

Devlin stooped, ran his tongue from her clit to her asshole and she almost fell to the concrete with the sudden electric thrill. She hissed, gasped, rolled back so her shoulders pressed the brick, looking down at Devlin, his sneering face at her naked crotch.

Then he was rising, his movements driven by undisguised lust. And she responded to him, her eyes locked on his as he rose to full height above her. His huge cock was pushed in her hand, he kissed her, and she began to stroke him up and down using both hands, squeezing him tight and feeling the turgid resilience.

As terrible an idea as this was, her lust was ignited by his. Like a key put in her ignition, the two of them turning over now, a spark rolling over the heavy lecherous engine. While she kissed him, her breaths came heavier and heavier, and she soon she was gasping around his kisses, her mind focused on the large masculine implement in her hands, exploring it, pleasuring, stroking but also caressing, treating it with respect. It delivered to such joy to her last night, it was an object to be revered. She jerked him fast, slow, wondering how this would end. Would he come on her shirt? On her neck, or maybe she would get down on her knees and he would do it on her face. No man had ever done that, but a few years ago on a strangely erotic night when she was alone and Josh was away, she had watched porn on her laptop and seen a girl submit to that terrible act. It had haunted her. But not in the way she believed. Because now here she was with a different kind of man. The idea of Josh doing that to her just didn’t seem right. But getting on her knees while a man like Devlin did it sparked desire.

Soon she was gasping, letting his cock go, putting her hands on his chest. Meant to push him away, but now ended up touching him. Getting her hands inside his suit jacket so she could feel better the muscle of his chest through the thin cotton of his dress shirt. His body was hard, curved slabs, broad chest but slender middle. She could still feel the weight of his erection resting on her stomach.

Devlin let their kiss go, grabbed her roughly by the back of her neck and stared in her eyes. She held her breath now, watched his black pupils on hers. He gripped his cock, aimed it between her legs and ran it through the slickness of her creases. Her toes curled in her high heel shoes, and her stomach went light as a feather. To feel his masculine steel against her soft wet flower did something crazy to the top of her brain. It was like a patch of grass with sunlight falling across it now.

“We can’t,” she whispered.

“You want it,” he said.

She shook her head no. He smiled.

“You want it so fucking bad. I can read your mind, you liar.”

It got her chuckling, her knees softening, back arching, tilting her face up to his. She squeezed his cock between her thighs, reached up to kiss him again. Put both hands on his neck now, his strong neck, touched his ears, held them in the V between thumb and forefinger and pushed her tongue into his mouth while her mind focused on what his hardness felt like against her softness. She whispered, “I can’t two days in a row . . .”

“You’re not used to it.”

“You’re too big.”

“You love it.” He jabbed the head upright, mushing her labia but not entering her.

She gasped. “I love it,” she admitted.

Now his hand slipped between them. He gripped his cock and with his fist applied pressure with the end of it, mashing it hard against her pussy. She fell back against the wall, looked down her own body, her panties around her thighs, his masculine hand holding that mighty weapon where it disappeared between her legs. His shaft glimmered with her own wet. He stroked her with his cock. She enjoyed it. Loved the pleasure it delivered. Her hands went to the wall, her nails scratching on the brick. He pleasured her with his cock, teasing her like he’d put it inside her, but only stroking back and forth. Then his hand slipped between her thighs, his cock moving away, running a slippery wet line from her pussy up to her hip. She gripped it and held it, squeezing as he pushed two fingers gently inside her.

“Careful,” she reminded him.

“When will you be ready?”

“I don’t know.”

“Saturday.”

“I’m in Cayman on Saturday,” she laughed.

Two fingers in her pussy, now he gripped the back of her neck again. Held her like he owned her, turned her face up to his. “Beg me to come to Cayman.”

“You can’t,” she said. “Josh is coming.”

“Tell me you want me there.”

“I do want you . . .”

“Who would you rather go with?”

She bit her lower lip, refused to give him the answer he wanted. “Josh,” she said.

“You bitch,” he said smiling, sliding his fingers slightly deeper, the smile widening with each centimeter he penetrated her. Her mouth slowly felt open as she felt her depths being spread. “You’re lying to me.”

“I want to go with Josh.”

“I love it when you lie to me,” he said, cocking his head, studying her expression of ecstasy as he fingered her. Stroking in and out, pulsing against her, mushing the pads of his fingers against her clitoris. Her heels pressed down, and her back flattened against the wall.

“You want me,” he said, sneering, staring.

“I want you.”

“Josh only owns half your pussy.”

“Half of it?”

“The rest of it’s mine. I own the parts he can’t reach . . .”

Her lashes fluttered and her knees unlocked. She fell against the weight of his hand and he held her upright, two fingers probing very deep inside her. She gripped his forearm in both hands now. Felt the hard thick muscle under the expensive suit fabric. Craned her neck up wanting his mouth. He gave it, and she slid her tongue past his lips. He held the back of her neck still, fully supporting her, pressed against the wall, her weight cupped in his hand, two fingers deep inside, her tongue in his mouth. A demon in her life, but a demon who delivered all the world’s best sins.

This time when their kiss came apart, she said, “Come to Cayman with me.”

“That’s what you want?”

“Meet me in Cayman,” she said.

“I’ll fuck you there.”

“I need you to fuck me so bad.”

“You want to come right now?”

She nodded, let her legs apart, locked eyes on his while his fingers explored new pleasure, plunging, his thumb pressing on her clit. She searched for his cock, found it again, her right hand going around its tremendous girth. She squeezed, felt his pre-come dribble over her knuckles, wiped her knuckles on the underside of his cock, and used the slipperiness to stroke him. “We can come together . . .”

***

After a few minutes of touching, stroking, fingering, and pleasuring while they kissed, both of them got close to orgasm. But Devlin growled, pulled his hips back till his cock was out of her grasp. She moaned complaint, frowning. “I was so close . . .”

“Let me put it in you.”

“No way,” she said.

He fell against her, kissed her neck and her mouth, and she caressed his cheeks. He growled, his elbows braced against the wall on either side of her shoulders. “I’m going to come to Cayman, I going to sneak into your suite, fuck you while Josh sleeps off a couple beers and a sunburn.”

She chuckled, circled her hands around his back, both palms running circles. “You’re so bad.”

“You’re worse.”

She gnawed on her lower lip, drew a deep inhale. Was she?

Now he bit at her neck, and she whispered near his ear: “Don’t leave any marks,” thumbing at his ears, his hand coming between her legs again, two fingers slipping up inside her.

“You’re so fucking wet, Chang, you really can’t take it now?”

“It’ll hurt . . .”

She gasped then, as his pleasure returned at full force, fingers fucking deep and quick. She searched for his cock, but couldn’t find it. He had it, jerking it hard and fast with his other hand.

Now she surrendered to the pleasure. No longer mutual, this was all for her. She pressed her palms against the cool of the brick, bowed her knees out, up on the toes of her high-heeled shoes while he fingered her. He’d done it to her so many times, even the first time knowing what she liked. And now he was only better at it. Feeding off of her reactions, knowing how to make her utter the sounds he liked to hear. Soon she was whispering, “I’m coming . . . I’m coming . . . I’m coming . . .”

Devlin made an appreciative growl, moved back from her body, stroking his big dick, his other hand jostling two fingers embedded in her pussy. Not deep, only where she was used to feeling a penis. It was deeper that she wasn’t ready for him. Devlin’s space . . . 

At that thought, her trigger was pulled. “I’m mm-coming, ah god, I-I’m coming,” she moaned and gasped, one hand coming up, touching his face, her fingers dragging down, catching on his lower lip, tugging it, making it plop wetly back in place as her hands fell to her stomach, hoisting her skirt up high. She looked between her legs, her panties in a figure-eight just above mid-thigh, her pubic hair glistening and matted, Devlin’s hand shining with her wet. In his other hand he stroked fast on that massive dick. Her eyes narrowed focus on the awful sight, Josh just around the corner—if the crickets weren’t so noisy she could probably hear the laughter coming from their table.

She came. Not a bright sprinkler today, but, oh, it was glorious. She gasped, hitched breath, squirmed against the wall, chin turned up, squinting eyes against the orangey light from the lantern above, seeing the starlight field high in the sky.

“Oh god, oh my, ah,” she gasped, his finger slowly stroking, caressing the last of the pleasure from her. Her thighs shook, her ass muscles quivered like jelly. Devlin still stroked. She watched.

Heart still pounding, she whispered, “You going to come?”

“Mm, fuck,” he grunted, “yeah, squeeze my balls . . .”

“Yeah,” she whispered, snaking a hand between his legs, stuffing it into his fly. She found his scrotum, not tight but hanging, saying, “God, even your balls are huge. I can barely hold onto them . . .”

“Squeeze them . . .”

She complied. Watching his face as he masturbated, his big balls in her hand, gauging from his expression when she squeezed them too hard. “Harder?”

“Fuck, Kimmy, mm, a little harder . . .”

“Like that? . . .”

Devlin groaned, slapping a hand on the brick wall to support his weight just by her head. He stroked faster, she looked between her legs and his monstrous weapon in his big grip.

“You going to come?”

“Ah, mm, fuck,” he said, “okay,” now reaching with his other hand still with his body weight lurched toward hers, curling an index finger into her panties, pulling them out and upward.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, knowing what he would do.

She let go of his balls, thumbed the waistband of her panties, pulling them upward and holding them in place, watching him squeeze and circle his grip around the neck of his long caulk, his fat cock head choked bright and shining purple. He ejaculated. A short bubbling geyser first that flicked off his knuckle and plopped on her thigh. But then he was squirting, the warm wet tapping into her pubic hair, up her belly. Devlin growled and roared, aimed his cock into the crotch of her pulled-down panties. She watched the pearly semen rope across her flesh, her pubic hair, draining into the panties, pooling in the black satiny crotch. “Oh god,” she sighed, “oh my god,” feeling another tidal roar of orgasm racing toward her shore. “Oh fuck . . .”

“Shit, Kimmy,” he growled, letting his cock go, slapping both hands on either side of her shoulders, head hanging, heaving for breath. His drooling dick hung between her thighs, and she snatched it. Jammed it between her legs, held in one hand, her other prying outward her panties still, she probed his warm plump army helmet against her wetted folds. At the feel of it, her knees went woozy. She sagged; Devlin stared at her, she met his eyes. Their vision stayed locked, laser beams scrambling each other’s organic computers, breaking down defenses, her eyes narrowed, vision dimmed, and with his cock in her hand, she mashed her clit until she shrieked a loud chirping girl sound. Devlin clapped a big hand across her lips, eyes wide, mouth stretching to amusement. She burbled, gagged, and cried into his nice-smelling palm, felt a tinkling down the insides of her thighs. Her knees gave way finally, and she collapsed, butt and back scooting down the wall, ankles folding over, feet coming out of her shoes.

Devlin was quick to support her, getting hands under her arms, holding her up and chuckling. He hoisted her upright, her spaghetti legs dangling from her hips. He set her down out of her shoes, staring into her still, those black demon eyes somewhere between baleful and joy. Loving this bad creature he’d converted to the dark side.

He chuckled in his throat, slowly eased his hands out from under her armpits making sure she wouldn’t fall again. She was in bare feet, cold on the concrete. His smile grew wider, but his eyes moved across her appreciatively. He stepped back, his cock falling out of her clumsy hand and dangling between his legs, a huge flesh club pale against the dark navy suit. He licked his upper lip as he stepped back, took his penis, tugged outward his fly and, with effort, shoved it back undercover. He zipped, came close to her while she stood there dumbfounded, breathing heavy, wet sliding down the insides of her thighs. He pulled the front of her panties, she looked down. A white semen mess spoiled the inside of the fabric. He circled his fingers through the waistband, straightening out the panties, then gently tugging them back up her thighs. She helped him by swaying her hips, and when he pulled them into place she felt the cool messy wet of his load against her hot velvety pussy. She moaned and closed her eyes. Devlin groaned, too. Then his lips were on hers, and she kissed him. He pulled back, still with that appreciative stare.

He stepped backward, three steps, smiling, putting his hands in his pockets. Then he wheeled, strolled under the lamplight, heading to his car, long Devlin shadows flicking across the asphalt like dials gone haywire. 

***

It wouldn’t have been a good idea to return to the table via the archway at the opposite end of the courtyard. She walked part way from where she and Devlin had engaged all the way back to the accountant’s office in bare feet. Passing through the cool summer grass and feeling its dewey wet between her toes. Then did her best standing on the sidewalk out front of the accountant’s office hand braced on it’s entryway gate-post to balance herself while she dried her feet the best she could with her clean hands before slipping her heels back on. The chill from Devlin’s semen had gone, his gloppy mess in the crotch of her panties quickly assuming her body heat. It slipped through her creases, made her feel greasy. It was gross, something one would think was off-putting—like if you’d asked her before the summer—and yet it was representative of something dark and erotic, and whatever it was about that obverse of her good, it made her heart race. There was a small amount of shame, but it was now quashed under the enormous weight of this heavy feeling of creeping lasciviousness.

In her heels, she returned to the almost empty main street, walking with hands in suit pockets, turning right to head under the archway that led to the Dragon’s patio. That was where she resumed a more upright posture, tried to push to the back of her head the knowledge that her boss’s—Devlin fucking Stone’s—semen squished and squelched between her legs. Even the insides of her thighs were lubricated.

Now trotting up the steps, she was relieved to find everyone still at the table: Gabrielle, Samara, Leah, even Quinn. At the end of the table, Steve and Meyer, and at the throne at its head, her husband. And even with the freshness of her enormity slick between her legs, she beamed seeing Josh so happy with her arrival. He gave a friendly wave, still listening to Steve who was mid-story. Quinn had cozied up next to Meyer, their shoulders touching. That was going really well.

She took a moment to let it all register. everyone oblivious. She’d got away with it. All the kudos and respect and appreciation for an act so kind for her husband, then for herself, a quick lubricious tryst with her hot and hugely hung boss just for herself.

Josh waved her over, and she nodded. As she came around the table, he asked if Karina got away okay.

“Yes,” she said, “we were just talking—”

“Hey,” he interrupted, “grab that chair,” pointing to the empty spot between Steve and Gabrielle. Then he scooted his chair aside, making room at the head for the two of them. “Come and join me,” he said.

Holding the chair’s back, she dragged the heavy thing around Steve, putting it in the spot next to Josh. Steve Josh and Meyer had drained what had to be their fifth pitcher. All their glasses three quarters empty. Josh was stoned. She said it: “Look at the state of you.”

Steve laughed, leaning back so he could look up at her better. “He’s full of cake and beer. And normally those two things would never go together . . .”

Meyer said, “We made it work.”

Then Josh’s hand snaked around her waist, and she resisted him, tightening her muscles against his pull. He was persistent. “Come on, come here,” he said, pulling her.

She went with him, let him guide her to sit now in his lap with her back to Meyer. Devlin’s pearly mess squished between her legs as she sat in Josh’s lap. He looked at her lazily, eyes half-lidded and happy, stinking of beer. Smiling. She smiled back, patted him lightly on the cheek. “Did you have a good time?”

“You’re the best.”

“You deserve it,” she said.

“Isn’t she the best?” Josh said to Steve, hugging her now. His arms went around her, and he hugged hard, squeezing till she couldn’t breathe. It tightened her muscles, her stomach going to steel, and she could feel the slithering mess in the crotch of her panties, could feel its liquid seeping upward between her pressed-together thighs, probably tangling in her pubic hair.

Steve agreed. “Kimmy’s indeed the best,” he said, hoisting his big plastic patio tumbler in a second-long toast before tipping it back and draining it dry.

Josh worked his face up her collar, kissed her neck, cuddling with her. Near her ear, he whispered, “I’m going to make you squirt so hard tonight.”

“Jo-osh,” she said, laughing, slapping lightly at his hand and swaying away from him, looking aside to make sure no one had heard what he’d whispered.

He hugged her back in return, clutched her to him. Big grin on his face, he said, “What?”

“Okay,” she said slyly, feeling a new spark of desire.

Meyer asked, “What are you two whispering?”

She looked over her shoulder, saw Quinn and him staring at her—making her feel good at what she’d accomplished today, not just for Josh. “None of your business,” she teased, then seeing the waitress coming out of the tavern, waved her over, saying to Josh, “One more drink before we go.”

She hugged Josh’s head and he kissed her wrist while she ordered herself the best whisky the Dragon offered.