Thread: Bring The Kids (As Day Fades & vertigis)

Now this is more like it, Tommy grinned, eyes glued on those generous chocolate breasts and their dark nipples as she pushed and played at them. He was certainly growing aroused, from a half-erect status when she'd taken off her clothes, his shaft growing in firmless and rediscovering its proper form, to now pushing noticeably against the crotch of his pants, giving the fabric an inarguable shape. He felt like he wanted to say something, something playful, or complimenting, or joking, or encouraging, she was certainly getting the right idea he felt as she stood up and leaned forward, letting her bountiful breasts droop free, touching them again, touching her stomach...but she kissed him, and instead that's where he suddenly was. Tommy's return was more passionate, more energetic than the one she gave him, tilting his head to get under the ballcap, leaning in. Breathing out through his nose, he elongated the moment, the first audible smack of lips parting leading right to a second kiss without any space having formed between the pair. By the third he had his left hand around her right side, beneath her arm, palm on the smooth skin of her back, and his right had encircled her lower, palm gripping so wholly around Tamara's left buttcheek that his fingers curved inward, between her crack. - - - - We don't have time for this, boss, one of the men interjected, standing off to the side. Yeah, I know, he shot back sharply. Bald and beardly, Don was the leader of the group, moderately muscled on his arms and legs and with a chest that was somewhere between stout and fat. He brought a palm up to cover his mouth while looking to Shanti, wiggling, dangling there, stammering words as quickly as she could. Some of it was in answer to him, but not much of it was what he really wanted to know. She'd probably give up her third grade teacher's middle name right now if he asked. The bottle was brought to the soft expanse of her stomach, below her ribs, above her belly button. There she was quickly sliced again, the bottle whipping across her mocha skin in a left-to-right downward diagonal motion. This one wasn't terribly long, but longer than the other, about three, three and a half inches total. It was only skin deep, but that was all she probably needed. Great. You're on vacation. So you're not here to fuck with us, you're just stupid - but I still want to know how many of you there are. His face was firm. Eyes narrow, jaw set, he stared directly to the vulnerable woman, Number. Names. What they look like. Tell me fast or I swear to God I'll trade this bottle in for something worse. - - - - The last time he'd taken a good, proper bath...that was probably a pop quiz that Brody would fail. And he'd do it with a snicker and a bit of a laugh, because the way he and the other guys lived, who really cared. It wasn't like he was going to sleep with himself. That was this dumb bitch's job. He stood there while she undid his pants and fished out his cock, semi-erect, growing the rest of the way into its full form while wrapped in the warm, bloody cocoon that was the sporty brunette's mouth. His was an only average length dick, but much thicker than most, and with a curly base of dark unkempt hairs that was just as unmaintenanced as the rest of him. A few seconds of quiet and lewd, wet sucking sounds were both relaxing and awkward and simultaneously erotic. Brody's shaft grew to its full size, its proper length and girth inside Christy's bobbing mouth, with an uptilt of his chin and occasional light grunts in his breathing further evidencing his pleasure. Her cries went wholly ignored, his other hand coming to take the other side of her head now, its cold steel of his familiar weapon touching to her skin too, wordlessly urging her into a steady groove.