Man Of Steel(2)

By: Jordan Silver

Now I could fist her hair, just to add a little pain to the pleasure, she likes that shit. “Look at me babydoll.” Her eyes flew open and up as her cheeks became more distorted from having eleven and a half inches of cock meat stuffed in there. I thrust hard knowing that it would choke her off, I like that feeling around my cock too, as she choked and coughed trying to catch her breath.

Pulling out of her mouth, I tapped her lips and cheeks with my bobbing cock before stroking hard. I fisted my cock and jacked it until I felt the blast coming. She knew what to do, and leaning back on her hands lifted her chest higher. The first volley of cum hit her right between her magnificent tits. Some ended up on her nipples and I even made it to her lower face. It was a beautiful paint job if I do say so myself.

She fingered her pussy with one hand while using the fingers of the other to wipe cum from her body and feed herself. “Good girl.” I cleaned us both up and headed down to make breakfast while she puttered around the bedroom straightening up. Life was fucking amazing.

Chapter 2

“I have to make a run later baby, you’ll be okay here by yourself?” It was later that night and we’d both only been home a few hours from our respective jobs. When things are like they are now, I try to spend as much free time with her as possible, because even though I know she understands what’s going on, I’ve learned from my mistakes and I never want her to feel abandoned or like I’m taking advantage. She knows she’s not going anywhere regardless, but I’m not that much of a dick that I would use the fact that I’ve got her on lockdown to misuse her.

She hated being alone in the big old house at night, not that I blame her; the world is full of sick shit. But I’ve made sure our place is secure and I’ve been teaching her how to take care of herself. I don’t mind that she feels safer with her man around, that’s part of my job. But every once in a while I have to go out at night, or sometimes even be gone for days on end. Those times I usually do all I can to reassure her that she’s safe and I never take her fears for granted. She was one of the strongest people I knew but when it came to this shit there was no getting through to her.

One of her friends had been attacked a few years back and the girls never forgot or really got over it. She’s full of piss and vinegar when it comes to me, but underneath all her bravado, my baby’s a girly girl who likes having her man at her back to keep the dark at bay. It’s fucked that I have to leave her to go protect someone else but it’s what I do. Seems like it’s what I’ve always done in one capacity or another.

I use to be a detective in the big city; that was before cops started becoming politicians. I had no stomach for the bureaucracy bullshit and the game playing so I took early retirement. Not long after leaving, I opened my first bar, which had I known then where it would lead, I would probably have bought a damn Mickey D’s. Cops don’t usually hang out in those.

Within weeks of my doors opening, it seemed like every disgruntled cop in a ten mile radius found his ass on one of my bar stools. I hadn’t intended my place to be a cop hangout but pretty early on it was obvious that that’s where shit was heading. If that wasn’t bad enough, I got caught up with a whole other element at just about the same time. The peace and tranquility I was after seemed out of reach by then. And life proved to be truly stranger than fiction. I’m not sure what I would’ve done different if anything, had I seen it coming.

There’s nothing stranger for an ex cop than to have some of the degenerates he’d put away coming back into his life. Not set on destruction no, these freaks were looking for an alliance. Apparently, I was a standup guy in their book, the only trust worthy ‘pig’ they’d ever had the misfortune to get tangled up with. Lucky me. I was their chosen front man for an enterprise that, if not at the complete other end of the spectrum from my former profession, was pretty fucking close.

I’d worked vice for a time, did a stint in narcotics, some time in violent crimes and for a time in my early years I’d tackled domestics, before ending up in homicide. I got tired of the revolving door, where the criminals were headed back out on the streets as fast as I put them away. I said fuck it and hung that shit up, it was just the last in a long line of grievances I had against a career I’d looked forward to since my childhood that hadn’t panned out. I guess I’d somehow glamorized the role after watching old films that were heavy on the serve and protect angle. There wasn’t much of that left by the time I handed in my piece and my badge.

Hot Read

Last Updated


Top Books