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He sped up his timing, each time pressing a little deeper, a little harder into her womb, until she was on the edge of heaven. Then he pushed her over, just playing with her clit as he slammed into her. He felt Kitty shudder under him with her climax. He savored the feel of her muscles climaxing around him, then he pulled out so he could start on Annie.
He had stretched Annie open to hold two fingers and she was nearly ready for him. He held his cock, still wet with Kitty's juices, at her rosy entrance, and pushed against her resistant flesh. She was so tight and so hot inside. Her muscles clenched tightly around him as he pushed inside of her.
"Just a little farther,” he whispered, nearly breathless. His cock was in halfway and he pulled out, then pushed back into her even further than before. Annie arched her back, allowing him even better access. “You always did have the sweetest ass."
"The trick is to relax, baby. Most girls don't get it” Annie purred.
He thrust into her, pounding her flesh, his balls slapping against Kitty. He played with Kitty a little, bringing her quickly to an excited state once again. “Most girls can't take all of me."
"That's why you will always come back to me,” Annie said smugly.
Vincent groaned. He knew he was hooked on Annie and her girls, he just didn't like being told he was pussy whipped. Her arrogance was why he stopped seeing her so regularly.
He pushed himself harder, giving Annie a little spank. He grew harder inside of her, and suddenly he stiffened as he came, spurting his juices into her flesh.
"That's it, baby. Do me just like that,” Annie screamed out. Annie came hard under his touch, her body spasming around his cock. Kitty came again for the second time under his attentive hands. He pulled out of Annie completely and watched as her muscles tightened, spilling out her juices down her gleaming wet pussy and onto Kitty's backside.
Life is good, he thought to himself.
Whoever said three was a crowd had never come to Annie's place.
* * * *
Barbara had tried three of the doors down the narrow hallway upstairs. Two of the rooms had couples inside that were in the middle of intimate relations. She slammed the doors shut with a quick apology each time, her cheeks heating with embarrassment. If she wasn't so mad at Vincent right now, she would consider giving up, but she was downright angry. He was supposed to wait for her. What was she supposed to be doing while he was busy? Twiddling her thumbs? Knitting him a sweater?
The man was impossible.
He could have waited. She shouldn't be here in the middle of a brothel right now—and it was his fault she was here. If she had known that Annie's Saloon was a brothel—she never would have agreed to come meet him here.
Barbara paused outside the door at the end of the hall. It could be the right door, or she could get another couple exposed. Images in her mind she could never forget—a lady's naked legs poised high in the air, a man grunting into her, his naked back exposed to Barbara. It infuriated her. It embarrassed her, and yet ... curiously, it aroused her. Her own lingerie had grown slightly damp as she imagined what it would be like to have a man between her legs. Not just any man, but it was Vincent that she imagined there, filling her up from the inside out, assuaging that needy ache.
Barbara let out a determined sigh, her hand poised on the doorknob. She opened it wide, preparing herself mentally for what she might find inside.
Nothing could have prepared her for what she found.
Not one, but two women were in bed with Vincent. Their hair splayed about them and their naked breasts displayed freely, the sheets fell just below their breasts, exposing more flesh than any decent woman should.
"You're late.” Barbara accused Vincent, glaring at the sinful scene in front of her.
Vincent met her with laughter in his chocolate eyes, not apologetic in the slightest. “Sorry, I got tied up. Did you want to join us?"
Barbara let out a shriek, and crossed her arms defensively over her chest. “No—I am not going to join you!"
"The offer is open anytime you want to,” he said in that cocky voice that never failed to turn her legs weak.
Barbara wanted to attack him physically at that moment. Seeing him wrapped up in the arms of two other women was harder than she expected, but she was a lady. So instead of doing as she desired—attacking him and clawing at his face—she grabbed her skirts and said, “Go to hell, Vincent,” just before she slammed the door shut.
* * * *
Barbara kept her arms tightly folded over her chest, her lips pursed shut in silence on the ride home. Vincent let her pout for the first hour, then he tried to break the silence. “It's not like I have any excuse for what I did, but a man has needs."
She glared at him silently.
"Are you going to take care of those needs, darling?"
Silence met his hard, icy stare.
"I didn't think so."
Barbara turned away, rolling her eyes. “You could have waited until I was not with you to take care of your so-called needs."
"Maybe. But it's already in the past. Are you going to hold it over me forever?” He let out an audible sigh, “So what have you been doing all day?"
"Me?"
She remembered the day's events with a twinge of guilt. She had tried to talk to people about selling her portion of the mining claim, but that was when she realized how stuck she was. He would be in her life as long as she was stuck with that gold mine.
"I went to that dress shop and it was terrible. I don't want to talk about it."
"Why? Didn't they have any dresses you liked?"
"Actually, yes, but the only ones they wanted to sell me were the ones in the back,” she huffed.
"What was wrong with those dresses?” he asked.
A fiery blush warmed her cheeks, and she bit her lip, not sure how she could say the words. “They were the ones for the whores that work at Annie's place. The lady said I looked like I worked there."
Vincent covered his smile with his fist. “She really tried to sell you one of the dresses in the back? Well, you should have taken her up on the offer, darling. It would have been perfect for a mistress."
"For the last time, I will never be your mistress!” Barbara hissed out. She turned her back on him, crossing her arms, determined to be silent for the rest of the trip back to the house.
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Chapter Eight
The afternoon sun was at its highest, beating down on the couple as they worked the land, sifting the dirt for its hidden treasures. Vincent noted Barbara's waning energy and the way her step had slowed. She was exhausted, and the afternoon heat wasn't helping. “Let's take a break and go sit under the trees for a bit."
She shrugged her shoulders, but followed to sit next to him on a log. He wasn't the only one sweating; she raised her hand to wipe away the sweat at her brow.
It wasn't long before she broke the awkward silence. “So how did a man like you end up here, Vincent?"
"What do you mean a man like me?"
Her arms flew to her chest, crossing habitually in defense. “Well, it seems to me that you would be happier in a big city."
"Actually, I have always liked how peaceful it is here. Have you ever noticed that you can't see the stars at night in the city? It just seems to me like you are closer to God here."
"How did you even end up here?"
"Here?"
"Yes, here. How did you end up in the middle of nowhere and partners with my father?"
"Well it's kind of a long story, but your pa took me in, when I got in trouble with the law."
"I am not surprised."
"That your father took me in?"
"That you were on the wrong side of the law once."
"It was a misunderstanding more than anything."
