Page 41 of Red Flag Bull

New panties. Well, a G-string with a fat little plug fitted into the crotch. I considered getting the double-plug panties, but only one penetrating object is really necessary for what I want. It should trap a decent amount of my seed inside her cunt and make the rest of our motorcycling trip rather enjoyable for her.

I thread her feet through the thong’s elastic strings and work it closer to her creamed, glistening pussy. It’s not difficult, since she’s in the same position a baby is in when they’re getting a diaper change.

Her gaze never leaves my face, but her eyes grow rounder when I push the thick bulb inside her. She takes the stretch like a pro, and I lock it in place by tugging the straps up until they grip into the flesh of her hips. I slowly dress her again, covering up the muddy streaks I left on her skin.

I pull her to her feet and bend her over my bike for a strategically placed spank, before I settle her moaning ass onto my passenger seat again.

The short ride to Mountain Lake Falls is a fucking joy.

Mandi clings to me like I’m all that’s keeping her in this world, and although the sounds she makes are stifled by our helmets, I can hear her moans.

The vibrations must be shaking her plug-filled pussy into an incredible state, because she’s rocking and rubbing herself on anything she can use to get off. She’s got herself pressed against me so tightly, I can feel every change in her posture and breathing. Her body grows tenser and tenser, and it’s easy to feel the exact moment she comes.

Her legs clamp to my sides, and I feel her shaking, as the orgasm rattles through her. And when I pull into the lake-house driveway, she sags against me, practically boneless during the last of her intermittent tremors.

The automatic garage door opens when it detects the sensor on my bike, and I roll us inside slowly, so as not to overwhelm her cunt when it must be feeling sensitive.

I’m careful not to let her fall when I dismount, and I pull her into my arms to carry her inside.

There’s no resistance in her at all. Total trust. She’d let me do anything.

I doubt she’d even use her safe word. Not that she ever uses it right, anyway. She only ever says it when she thinks I need us to stop. Like she needs to protect me from feeling the way she so often does — hopeless and too raw to function. She’s so fucking sweet, to think she can protect me like that.

I cradle her close, gently rocking her sleepy body in my lap while I run her a bath in the big tub. It feels so right, to have her in my arms. To know she’s safe and cared for. I could have been doing this for twenty years, but I didn’t do enough to keep her.

I knew I was punching above my weight. I thought we had something — a language of our own — but apparently I misunderstood. I thought she enjoyed my form of communication, but maybe it was too forceful. Maybe that’s what drove her away. Drove her to drink. Drove her to… I don’t even know what, but it’s bad.

The worst part is that I don’t know exactly what I did wrong, which means I can’t make sure it won’t happen again.

I kiss her head and hold her more tightly. Why did you run from me, Princess?

16

MANDI

I’m tired, and Jason’s warm, and he smells like heaven — leather and man and motorbike. The room around us is filling with other smells. Perfumes or soaps.

The flow of the faucet shuts off with a soft squeak, and I open my eyes when he leans down to swirl the water in the tub with me in his arms.

“It’s ready for you, Princess,” he says softly. He peels me from my clothes and leaves me wearing only the G-string with the bulbous attachment. He slides his finger beneath the elastic and runs it gently back and forth against the sensitive skin of my groin crease until I shiver. “Think you can stand for me?”

I nod, because I’m his princess again, and it feels so good, I’ll do anything I can to please him.

He guides my feet to the floor, and I do my best to stand on my weak, trembling legs. Jason supports me to stay upright, and I need the help. My body is spent, and it takes effort not to melt on his bathroom tiles. Every muscle is heavy with relaxation, and it’s hard enough to keep my eyes open.

We’re in a house, but I don’t remember arriving. I was too busy, trying not to fall off his bike when the vibrations had sent my stuffed-full pussy into overdrive. The bumps in the road made it feel like getting fucked by a huge vibrator, and by the time we turned toward the lake, I was wound so tight, I was beside myself. As soon as my orgasm kicked off, it was like a rush of relief for the built-up bundle of stress inside me, and I unraveled. Completely unraveled. It’s a wonder there’s even a skeleton left inside me, to provide any structure.

When Jason lets me stand on my own, I sway so much, he leans me against him to slide the thong strings lower. He strokes my thigh and slips his hand between my legs, to grasp the flared base of the thick plug and slowly wiggle it loose.

A gush of warm fluid rushes from my pussy to dribble down my legs, the second it has the chance. We both moan, though his must be for a different reason than the relief I feel inside after being stretched taut all that time.

He presses his face to my belly and inhales deeply before moaning again. “I like the smell of you, bred, Princess,” he rumbles, gripping my ass.

Bred? As in… fucked with the intention to breed? To make babies? He wants his baby, inside me? My heart stutters, and so does my pussy.

“The sight of my seed, dripping down your legs again, is fucking bliss.”

Oh God. Oh God. Jason King is definitely talking about breeding me, and I’ve wanted that since he first started fucking me. Since he first came inside me, and I fell in love with the sensation and the idea of being his.

---