The Mad Kitty (The Kitty Chronicles ) Page 3
Katrina smiles shyly then headed in the opposite direction from where I’d originally been walking. My skin crawled. My sense on high alert as I felt unseen eyes on me. On us. I surreptitiously surveyed my surroundings. It was probably the shop worker, trying to see if her words had hit their mark and yet, I could feel the danger in the hidden person’s gaze.
I needed to get off the street. And I needed to protect Katrina.
And her cat named, Brian.
***
I followed Katrina into her home, taking note of the cars parked along the street and in the various driveways. While almost every house appeared as if a cookie cutter version of the other: smallish, bungalow style homes, each in neutral shades of beige, green, or tan; Katrina’s house stood out among them all. If it wasn’t the vibrant orange she’d painted the outside, it was all of the plants, dreamcatchers, Buddha statues, ribbons of all colors wrapped around the white balustrades, and eclectic set of furniture sitting out on the front porch. I felt as if I stuck out like a sore thumb, dressed in black as I was.
Oh, good god. I’m about to fuck a hippie.
That feeling of danger and warning hadn’t completely gone away, it had merely decreased slightly in intensity. But as I watched Katrina bend over in her entryway to pull off her shoes, Brian the cat flicking his tail and walking off to get food—I presumed—I wondered if perhaps my anxiousness and heightened state of awareness didn’t have another source.
Yes, I was about to fuck a hippie, but goddamn was she a beautiful one. I often heard Andrew refer to his wife, Kyra, as his queen, and while I could see she was gorgeous—hell, a blind man could see that—I hadn’t really identified what it was that made him call her by such a title. Now, however, as I watched the graceful way Kyra moved, the way her clothes slid along her form, the way the light caught, warmed, and seemed to emanate from her brown skin? I could see it. Just like Kyra, Katrina was a queen, but unlike my boss’ wife, Katrina’s beauty, her grace, her spirit took her beyond a mere mortal title.
Katrina was ethereal in her poise, her vivaciousness, her grace, her beauty, her sensuality, her smile that radiated warmth, sunlight… peace.
Something I hadn’t felt since I was a child and my mother, siblings, and I had one day free of my stepfather’s wrath.
I clenched my fists as I felt that old familiar rage start to rise in me. Boiling in my blood. Shooting fire through my veins.
My father was half-Irish and half-German. He’d fallen in love with my mother, a Taiwanese woman, in the 60’s and they gave birth to me in the early 70’s. 1974 to be exact. Because of my father’s ties to the Irish mob—through his father—life was fraught with tension and danger. Every day my parents lived as if it would be their last.
Until the day my mother told my father she was pregnant again.
They’d gone out to celebrate, leaving me with my uncle, only for them to be attacked. My father lost his life protecting my mother. My mother, in turn, lost the baby she was carrying. My father’s second child.
My uncles had taken us in, and while we’d mourned my father for a long time, life wasn’t all that bad for my mother and me. That is, until she met my stepfather.
He was a Chinese man whom we later found out had ties to the Yakuza, and a major anger problem. He beat my mother and me constantly. Forced himself on her until she gave him three kids. Then proceeded to beat them as well. Life at home as a kid and a teenager had been hell. Then one day my stepfather hadn’t come home. We waited and waited, but by the time dinner rolled around, he still hadn’t returned. We were so happy that my mother, siblings, and I ate junk food, ordered fast food, watched movies, and played games. We’d all hoped he’d been arrested or killed. He had been, but his debt to the Yakuza, to the Russians, to the Italians, to the Irish, even to the African American gangs put us all at risk. And before we could breathe, my mother and younger sister had both been raped and murdered. Then my youngest brother had been taken and forced to work for the Yakuza, and my other brother had run away.
Only to be found by the Italians and gunned down.
I was all that was left of my family, and for my safety, and to possibly gain another family—to replace those I’d lost—I’d followed in my father’s footsteps and joined the Irish mob.
But peace was gone. Joy was gone. Happiness and love had died. Buried beneath broken bodies, mangled souls, tarnished and tortured flesh, debts paid, and anger. So. Much. Anger. More than any one person should ever have to endure.
Until now.
I snapped out of the internal hurricane and maelstrom that was my past; and focused on Katrina. The first person to bring me a moment of silence.
Katrina who was slowly undressing.
I slammed the door behind me and locked it. Saying not a word as I followed her lead and began to disrobe quickly.
Katrina who stood before me in all her nude glory, her full breasts on display, bouncing gently as she stepped towards me. Her wide hips begging to be held by my big hands in a firm grip, as I fucked her forcefully from behind. Her slit that was bare of any hair and drooling her juices down her thighs.
Yum.
She held up the dildo.
“So how about it, Ludwig? Ready to fuck me?”
Chapter Seven
Katrina
I was ready for Ludwig, when he stomped towards me, his intent clear. I opened my mouth and moaned as his tongue dove inside. I moaned again when I felt his large hand cup my pussy, swallowing the deep groan that echoed from his throat when he felt how wet I was.
“Ludwig,” I yelped, when he bent down slightly in order to lift me onto his waist.
“I’ve got you, baby,” he panted, pushing through the house with me in his arms. I didn’t even have to tell him where to go. He followed his instincts and the natural layout of my home, walking upstairs, and heading for my bedroom. I held onto him with one hand, the other grasping the black dildo in a firm grip. I don’t even know why I still had it. Not when I had a full-blooded, hot, lustful man taking me to bed, but for some reason I couldn’t let go of the glass—or was it a crystal—phallus.
Ludwig took my lips again and kissed me even deeper than he had previously. I reached up to cup his face with one hand in order to give as much as I was receiving. His kisses were an inferno. Burning me. Scalding my skin. Igniting my every nerve-ending. And still I wanted more. So much more.
Ludwig lowered me to the floor next to my bed, even as his hands slid down to my ass and squeezed. I was glad I wasn’t wearing any panties at that moment. They would have been beyond soaked; they would have been ruined.
His eyes lowered to my breasts, the hungry look in them sending a shiver through me. I licked my lips as Ludwig lifted me and placed me at the center of the bed. My body thrilling at the feel of his muscles, as my eyes take in his deliciously nude form.
“I’m a little disappointed that I didn’t get a chance to undress you,” he said, his voice heavy with lust. “It would have been a bit like opening a present on Christmas morning and finding out it was exactly what I asked for.”
I shivered when he stroked the backs of his fingers over the side of my neck, down over my clavicle, to the side of my right breast. I could feel the passion that continued to grow between us make the air heavier. My limbs feeling like heavy weights, attached to a torso that was basically a live wire. How in the world had he been able to accomplish this in such a short amount of time?
“Next time,” he promised, and I nod as he drops his free hand down to the rigid stalk of flesh between his legs. His erection is thick and long, the tip red as if it were angry to not be buried inside some part of me, fluid dripping from the slit, demanding release. Ludwig moved the stroking of his fingers down to my ankles before he dropped to his knees before me. He allowed his eyes to traverse my body as if deciding where he wanted to start. His long, blunt-tipped fingers wrapped around my ankle and he leaned down to place a kiss on first one then the other.
“I’m having some
very dirty thoughts about your feet,” he confessed, and I felt my face heat as my own mind became flooded with images of him licking, sucking, and kissing my toes, before wrapping them around his thick shaft. I let out a small, embarrassed laugh when he lifted his head and quirked an eyebrow at me. “Oh, I want to know what’s going on in that head of yours,” he said but I could only shake my head. I was too embarrassed to tell him about the debaucherous path my mind had travelled down. Hell, I was shocked I’d even thought that way. I wasn’t necessarily a prude, but I wasn’t even remotely as “free” sexually as I was being in that moment. I’d been too focused on surviving, then on getting my career started to have more than the occasional one-night stand that was fueled by much liquor, and many hours of regret the next morning. Sometimes even during the act.
I already knew I would not be regretting anything I did with Ludwig.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, reaching up to hold my breasts in his palms. I reach my hand down into the front of his thick, black hair and tighten a hold, poking my chest out, pleading for more than just his hands on me. Ludwig grinned and lowered his head in order to kiss the top of each of my breasts, moving from one to the other. His tongue lashed each tightened bud, before sucking them deep into his warm mouth. I dropped my head back into my mattress, my eyes rolling back as pleasure assaulted my very being. His lips feel so good against my skin, I cry out and tighten my grasp on his hair. Groaning, he reached for my hips to draw my aching pussy closer to his engorged shaft.
“Ludwig,” I moan. I wanted something. I needed… something. I just wasn’t exactly sure what.
“Yes, baby?” he asked. “Mmm. I can smell that pussy. I bet it’s tight as fuck. I just know if I shoved my cock inside of you, if that hot cunt of yours would break my dick off. Maybe I should loosen it up a bit first? Maybe feast on that hot pussy a bit, then use your new toy on you and make you scream my name. Would you like that, Katrina? You want me to eat that hot pussy then fuck it hard? Put my name all on it?”
“Yes, please.”
He tilted me back with a hand in the center of my chest. I looked down my body to watch him caress and worship my skin, murmuring about how beautiful the contrast of his hand against my body was. He licked his lips, even as his eyes homed in on my sopping, wet, center. His tucked his lip between his teeth, making my belly quiver with nervous anticipation. He looked so sexy, the yearning on his face had me feeling some type of way. Lifting my legs over his shoulders, he moved in at a tortuously slow pace.
“Mm,” he groaned as he inhaled me. My hips lifted off the bed when he took his first lick. His hands gripping my thighs held me down, as he pushed his tongue inside of me more and devours my essence. I watched as his head bobbed up and down between my legs, his black hair growing damp with his own sweat and my juices, as he tightened his grasp on my body. His groans of pleasure mixed with mine.
Pleasure so consumed my very being, reaching up to grip my soul, that I tried to crawl away from him, seeking a reprieve from the overwhelming bliss, even as my pussy throbbed, swelled, clenched and ached, needing more. But Ludwig followed me up the bed. My heart felt like it was going to burst right through my chest.
“Fuck,” I screamed out. “Oh my God.”
“This pussy has me starving. Stop running, baby,” he demanded. “This cunt belongs to me now. I could lay here and eat you out all day every day, three or four times a day and never get enough. You are so fucking delicious.”
I tossed my head back and forth on the pillows, as Ludwig returned to his task, adding his fingers to stretch me while sending me over the edge. My body shook with the force of my first orgasm—the first of many—as my juices dripped down between my ass cheeks. I panted, trying to hold onto the sheets beneath me.
“You like that?” He asked as he hovered over my lips.
My tongue flicked out over his mouth, tasting my essence on him. In response, I simply pushed him onto his back and followed him down until I hovered over him. My brown eyes locked with his even darker ones. “When was the last time that you had a really good blowjob?” I asked, licking my lips as I stared down at his massive erection, that appeared angry with its red tip. Ludwig bit his lower lip and released a sound so low, so tortured, that it sounded a bit like he was in agony. His eyes narrowed on me as I patiently waited for his answer.
“About a year,” he confessed. “A lot of women don’t really know what they’re doing when they get down there.” His erection throbbed in my hand. I wrapped my fingers around the thick, long shaft and gave him a long, slow stroke, with a firm grip. I settled down between his legs, much as he had me, and allowed myself a moment to inhale his scent, before I looked up at him through my lashes.
Ludwig offered me a tense almost-grin and I knew I was going to have to do something, so he gave me a full-on, blissed out smile. I licked from beneath his balls, close to his taint, up and around to the front of the heavy sacks, until I got to the root of his dick. Taking a long, slow trip to the head of his cock, I savored his unique, heady flavor. Ludwig let out a loud long groan that turned into a whoosh of hot air, fragranced with the aroma of my wet slit, the moment I took him to the back of my throat in one pass.
“Oh fuck. Katrina. Yes, baby,” he grunted. I may not have had a lot of sex with various men, but I perfected this skill. And while I still had men calling me, begging for me to come back to them, or to at least “choke on it” one more time because I had them “hooked,” I think I put a little something extra into this for Ludwig. I was going to make this wet, sloppy, and nasty. I slid my fingers deep into my aching, empty pussy, while I worked him over with my mouth, my tongue, gentle grazes of my teeth, and my other hand. Ludwig pushed up onto his elbows to watch me, so I let drool cover my hand as I pumped his cock.
Up.
Down.
Up.
Down.
Harder.
Faster.
Just like I wanted him to fuck me. And soon. His legs thrashed all over the place at my sides as if he didn’t know what to do with them. “God damn, baby,” he said huskily.
I moaned in pleasure. Ludwig’s cock was the perfect size. Not too big, not too long. He was just thick enough and long enough to enjoy and savor. But make no mistake, he was still above average. “I’m coming,” he said tightly.
“Mm, then come,” I replied around his tip, before taking him in deep all over again. I didn’t have to ask twice. He came hard and fast down the back of my throat. Making me hum in pleasure as I swallowed it.
Every. Last. Drop.
Ludwig watched me with awe in his eyes the entire time.
“I need condoms. I want you too bad. I’m going to fuck you with this dildo to get you ready for me, then I’m going to tear that pussy up,” he said.
I gasped when he flipped me on my back. Not entirely ready for his quick movements.
I watched with anticipation coiling through me as Ludwig reached out to grab the bag I’d remembered to bring with me when he carried me up the stairs, and pulled out the black obsidian dildo. He studied it for a moment before holding it up to my lips.
“Open up,” he ordered.
With my eyes fixed on his, I did as commanded and opened my mouth. I moaned as he slowly slid it in between my lips. I swirled my tongue around the fake phallus, watching as Ludwig’s eyes darkened. I sucked in the dildo deeper, taking it into my throat.
“Fuck, baby. That’s so goddamn hot,” Ludwig groaned, bending down to bite one of my nipples, then sucking it deep into his mouth.
My hips arched up off the bed as desire lashed through me. I gagged as Ludwig began to fuck my mouth with the dildo before tugging it out and stroking my slit up and down with the sex toy.
“Please, Ludwig,” I pleaded.
“Please what?” he teased me, leaning down to bite and suck on the inside of my thigh. The pain quickly morphed into pleasure and I tightened my fists in the sheets on either side of me.
“Fuck me. Please.”
; He didn’t respond, simply slid the phallus inside of me. Deep and slow. I inhaled quickly at the fake cock’s thick invasion of my pussy, before moaning as he pulled it back out. On and on, over and over again, Ludwig fucked me gently with the store-bought sex toy, until I felt as if I were going insane.
Only then did he really begin to fuck me.
My toes curled, my hands grasped out for his shoulders, his face, his hair, as he twirled, thrust, pushed, and pulled hitting my G-spot with every other motion, and just when I didn’t think I could take any more, he leaned down and sucked my clit into his mouth.
And I exploded.
Ludwig leaned over to the nightstand, reached in, and pulled out a few foil packets. He tore off one, tossed the extras on the tabletop, then bit into the one left in his hand. His heavy dick pressed against my thigh as if we both hadn’t just come. I shifted as he rolled the condom in place, preparing myself for his long, thick cock. He gripped my hips, then lifted my legs over his forearms, before thrusting into me.
“Ludwig,” I gasped he stretched me to fit his cock. He paused and looked into my eyes. He felt so good pulsing inside of me, but it was the look on his face… The wonder. The awe. As if he couldn’t believe he was having sex with me.
Fucking me.
Inside of me.
I cupped his face, bringing his lips to mine. Deepening the kiss, his hips started to move, making me whimper into his mouth. Ludwig doesn’t hold back. He dove in, pounding at my pussy in the best way. It was as if he wanted to make sure it was his dick that I remembered being in me, bringing me to orgasm, and not the one I’d purchased from a store.
I didn’t—I couldn’t—tell him it was unnecessary. I was never going to forget him. Forget the way it felt to have him moving inside of me, over me, to have his sweat dripping down to mix with my own. I didn’t even have to tell him how I liked it. He put it on me just the way I needed it as if we’d done this together a thousand times before.