RUGGED STRANGER TAKES VIRGIN! By Trista PiperRyder Ottenbagh, son of Helen Ottenbagh, founder of HAHA, was seen leaving the estate of Luther Morris late Sunday afternoon. After two seaplanes landed, thirty minutes apart from one another, eyewitnesses were determined to find out why there was a commotion on the Morris-Ottenbagh property.
Word on the street is that Luther brought Justine Van De Shire to his home, and shortly thereafter, police cars arrived. The next time Justine was seen, was when she was being carried out of the home in the arms of Ryder, the primary suspect in her kidnapping, wearing nothing but a man’s coat.
The Morris-Ottenbagh estate is heavily protected with high-security fencing, so no one was able to determine where Ottenbagh took Justine, but sources question just what Ryder’s intentions are.
When interviewed, a neighbor stated, “Ryder had always been a standoffish man albeit guarded, even more so since his mother passed.”
Reports confirm that since the death of his mother, Ryder has made several attempts to buy the property Luther is now in possession of, along with Luther’s seat on the HAHA Board.
While there is certainly something suspect happening on the property, as we speak, this much is clear: we here at EXPOSÉ would much rather be kidnapped by this rugged stranger named Ryder, than old man Luther.
Doesn’t take a team of experts to identify who we’d like to have nab us!
Forget the millionaire, we’ll take the man with the beard!
Everyone knows a furry face makes a heart race!Chapter 22RyderIn my old tree house, I make love to Justine, feeling like we are safe from the world at large. The branches of the tree cover us as I take her onto me, my cock so hard for her, my body made for her.
She gasps as I rock against her, she cries out as I move deep inside her tight pussy. She forgets herself as I take her fully, unable to restrain myself and knowing she doesn’t want me to. Everything about this moment is unrestrained.
The memory of Luther stripping her of her clothes, of him touching her skin and thinking he was his, makes my blood boil. I will never let another man touch Justine. She is safe now, she is mine.
“Ryder,” she moans, her fingers gripping my biceps, holding on for dear life as I teach her new ideas about love. As I show her exactly what it means to be filled by a true mountain man, a real lover who knows how to properly fuck his woman.
“You like it hard, Shortbread?” I ask, her tits bouncing like they were made to do, my hands on her waist, holding her to me,
We come together, her back arched, her lips swollen, her pussy slick. My cock is stiff and throbbing as I fill her warm cunt with my seed. I watch as pure pleasure washes over her. I give her all of me, and I am rewarded with her love.
“You look so fucking beautiful,” I say, rolling her on top of me. “I want to lie like this forever.”
“Forever and ever,” she breathes.
Our hearts slow as we relish the moments after making love, and I run my hand over her smooth skin, memorizing her in my arms, knowing moments like this are what life is made for.
Later, we stand and I pull my coat around her, wishing I had something more to use to cover her up. She turns to go down the ladder, but I open the chest in the corner, opening the lock with the combination of numbers I memorized as a boy.
Inside, I reach for a small box and take out a tiny memento. It’s one I stashed there a few years back. I put it in my pocket, lock up the safe, and meet my woman down at the base of the tree.
“I need to call my parents,” she says after we’re both on solid ground. Hand in hand we walk back toward the house. “They’re going to want me to come home with them.”
I swallow, not wanting her to go anywhere. Unable to imagine life without her. Ideas—totally outlandish plans run through my head. But before I am able to put words to them, we hear people calling our names.
Mostly calling Justine’s name.
“Sweetie? Where are you?” a woman cries.
“It’s my mom,” Justine says, looking up at me. “Thank God, they are here. It feels like it’s been ages.”
She lets go of my hand, and I watch her zip up the coat tighter, then run up the hill toward her parents. I can’t help but notice just how fast she moves, how relieved she seems to be to have them here.
The plans I was just making seem foolish. Justine isn’t going to want what I have to offer. She can do and be anything she wants.
She turns to me. “Are you coming?”