His Captive - Page 14

In a tizzy, my little bro went on and on about how perfect she was, how beautiful, how giving, and yes, how unbelievably well-endowed.

“She’s gorgeous Rob,” he breathed, mooning like a fucking cow. “A ten out of ten.”

I snorted, disbelievingly. More like this chick had plastic boobs and a fake chin, plus brains made of cereal. My bro was such a fucking dumbfuck, I could kick his ass inside out and he’d thank me.

But Chance was in a world of his own.

“No seriously,” my bro mumbled, eyes faraway. “She’s like an hourglass,” gesturing with his hands, making a wave. “Absolutely, one hundred percent perfect.”

I snorted again.

“Fuck,” was my only comment. Because what the hell? Chance was dizzy on pixie dust, he’d drunk the Kool-Aid and the only thing to do was to wait for it to wear off.

But that was the problem. How long was it gonna take before he came down from his high? Tomorrow? The day after? A week later? The way it sounded, this golddigger had him by the balls, and they were going to City Hall to tie the knot stat.

So I took things into my own hands. I had to get this girl out of Chance’s orbit until he calmed the fuck down. I had to drag her out of the city until my bro got his head screwed on straight and saw the red-headed slut for who she really was – a professional whore.

So yeah, I hatched the kidnapping scheme. I’m a bastard, a complete and utter arrogant asshole, and shit, it’s caused some problems in the past, sure. But nothing to go to jail for, just some crossed wires plus a couple payments to the local police.

Because after tracking her down in the bad part of town, I could definitely see why this “Anna” chick wanted to marry rich.

Her apartment was old and dilapidated, shutters falling off their hinges, paint peeling. Not just that, but the neighborhood itself fucking sucked. There were cracks in the sidewalks, weeds everywhere, not to mention the smell of pesticides. Oh yeah, in the bad part of town they still use that shit, it’s hazardous just to walk your dog. So yeah, we were on the money express, and this chick was clearly looking for a way to get herself out of this dump.

But the thing is, Chance’s description of her was spot on. More than spot on, it didn’t do her justice. Because “Anna,” the fucking whore, was flat-out gorgeous, everything he described her to be. She had curves that went on for miles, huge tits that swung as she walked, making my mouth water. And oh shit, but that ass. That ass made my dick jump from the sight, round, ripe and luscious, like a guy’s cock could get buried in there for days and never come out.

And worst of all, there was her face. That face was meant for magazines with its straight nose, plush mouth, and big brown eyes. My cock jerked even harder, imagining those lips parting in an “O,” swallowing me deep.

And fuck, I hated myself even more. Because I was fucking kidnapping my brother’s fiancée to save him, and yet all I wanted to do was fuck her myself. That’s right, I wanted to part her legs and plow between those sweet white thighs, the smell of her cunt engulfing me. I wanted her to bend over and show me those that ass, the white orbs splitting apart to reveal a deep, dusky star.

Oh shit, I’m such a fucking motherfucker.

But yeah, I was willing to fuck her up to save my family.

So I did it. I threw Anna into the trunk of an old beater we keep on standby and drove to our family’s cabin in the woods. It’s a place we go to once every few years, a private spot to get away without the eyes of high society following us everywhere.

And for the entire drive, I could only think about her. It was so wrong. Even as I listened to Anna scream in the trunk, pounding those small fists against the metal, all I thought about was fucking her.

Would those full, heavy tits bounce in rhythm as I pounded her from below? Would she cream with desire, trying to worm her ass down on my dick? Would Anna scream my name, “Yes, Rob, oh oh oh!” as she exploded on my cock, that pussy shivering with delight?

Snarling again, I swore, my cock straining against the zipper of my jeans, it was so fucking hard. God, what the hell is wrong with me? Anna was the professional whore ready to tear my family apart, luring my innocent younger bro into a trap. And yet all I wanted to do was plow that female pussy, spurting my cream? Shit.

So yeah, now she’s locked upstairs in a bedroom. I have no idea what I’m gonna do just yet, but for the moment, a beer sounds good.

Tags: Cassandra Dee Erotic
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