Captive Curves Read Online Free PDF Page B

between us to palm my mound as his tongue pushed past my teeth.  
    He moved us toward the table along the wall, half sitting on it with his pistol behind him. The new position had me straddling his upper thighs, his fingers sluicing up into my wet cunt.  
    Only the devil knew how many pairs of eyes watched us. Dino made me forget, if only for a few hard rocking minutes, that there was anyone else in the room. Leaning back, his hands gripping the edge of the small table, he looked down at his erect cock.  
    “Take it. Ride it.”  
    A soft command, but a command nonetheless. I lifted up on my tiptoes, my hand reaching down to hold his shaft steady. My pussy already clenching in anticipation of his thickness, I tried to force myself to relax but only made myself tighter. I waited for the next pulse of my cunt as it ebbed and then sank onto his cock. Moaning, I knotted around him.  
    Resting my forearms lightly across his shoulders, I tilted my hips forward. His lips were parted, his chest rapidly rising and falling as his gaze jumped from his cock penetrating me to the men behind me. I cupped the sides of his hips, my thumbs pressing flat against the protrusion of bone on each side to find my balance.  
    Swelling inside, my cunt gripped his cock, magnifying every little dip and roll as I moved against him. Lifting up, I felt the thick head drag inside me before hooking and tugging at my opening. He pumped his hips, thrusting and spearing me, battering at my cervix. My hands on his chest, I braced myself, my nails digging in to draw blood that ran in thin rivulets down to his nipples.  
    Panting and grunting, I sped toward my climax, slamming my cunt down the length of his cock, lifting, slamming, grinding as my nails dug deeper. Juices seeped from my pussy, wetting his lower stomach and smearing my thighs. Big and long, making me tighter and tighter, the moans leaving my lips no longer human but pure animal pleasure as I knotted around him one last time and came, freezing, screaming…  
    Dino’s hands wrapped around my waist, keeping me from falling as my body went limp. Behind us, a mocking clap sounded.  
    “You should make a video -- how to train your bitch in just a day.”  
    The sound of chairs scooting across the floor was followed by the heavy thud of a black duffel landing at our feet. A manila envelope was thrust at Dino’s chest, the hand holding it gnarled with age.  
    “You’ve got two days to get this to the D.F. or you and your little mule…” The old man brought his cane around front. I caught a glimpse of the carved silver rooster head at its tip before he lightly dragged the beak along my throat.  
    *****  
    Two hours later, we were on the road. Each time I opened my mouth, I earned a stony side glance from Dino or a terse “not yet.”  
    We stopped once, pulling into an alley behind a burnt out liquor store. He left the van for less than two minutes, forbidding me to do anything but look out the front window. When he returned, we drove south. Eighty minutes later, somewhere between Eloy and Picacho on a dirt road off of I-10, Dino pulled up at a rundown industrial-looking building. Putting the van in park, he left the headlights on but turned the engine off. Reaching across the center console, he briefly took my hand. “Moment of truth, little dove. Wait here.”  
    That was it -- leaving the keys in the ignition, he got out, walked behind the building and didn’t reappear. Twenty minutes later, a woman approached the van from the opposite half of the building, her lithe frame illuminated by the van’s headlights. She looked about forty, with short-cropped dark hair. What really stood out was the dark blue nylon jacket she wore over her jeans -- it had a gold star in a circle on the left front, the word “Police” in small print just below the star.  
    Reaching into her jacket pocket, she pulled out a badge. “Miss Williams, I’m Marshal Hollman. Leave the keys and come with