Tori ch2. (Patreon)

Hello, hello all! Sorry, for the delay but here it is. I hope the wait was worth it.

Enjoy!

PREVIEW:

The bike’s engine roars like a familiar, comforting thunder beneath the female bikers, a physical vibration that matches the restless energy still humming in their veins as they travel through town. A crew of Crows, three prospects and two full-patch members, all on their own hogs, with Tori at their head, leading them through the grimy, sun-drenched streets of the industrial district. The air smells of exhaust and distant river water. They’re running a standard errand: a resupply run to one of the club’s secondary weapon caches, a nondescript, windowless warehouse tucked between a derelict textile mill and a scrap yard. The V.P's mind keeps drifting back to the image of her little brother's ruined ass, a mix of arousal and rage bubbling inside her and it makes her irritable, her grip on the handlebars tighter than necessary.

They roll into the gravel parking lot, their engines cutting off one by one, the sudden silence feeling heavy. Tori swings her leg over the seat, her leathers creaking, and pulls off her helmet, shaking out her tousled hair. The warehouse door is already rolled partway up, and inside, the lights buzz with a sickly, pale glow. "Alright, girls. let's get this shit done fast, we're already late enough." She ducks under the door, her boots crunching on concrete.

"Oh yeah? Wonder who's fault is that?" Slasher, one of the two patched members of the crew playfully says.

"Put a sock in it Slasher, or I'll put something else." Tori shoots back with a wink.

"Are you offering?" Slasher retorts.

Tori rolls her eyes and just ignores her as they all continue making their way inside. Her eyes immediately land on a figure bent over a heavy wooden crate in the center of the cluttered space.

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“I see you came. Gotta say, I had my doubts.”

The young man hesitates for a second, his shoulders tensing, but then he squares them and makes his way through the maze of tables and pool players, his steps careful, as if navigating a minefield. The eyes of the club follow him, a new, pretty face is always a curiosity. He reaches their little circle at the bar and, after a brief, uncertain pause, slides onto the empty stool beside Tori.

Before he can even settle, C-O is leaning around her, her fiery red hair a wild mane around her grinning, freckled face. She’s already three sheets to the wind, her Irish accent so thick it’s almost a separate language. “Hoohoo, and who might this hot piece of ass be?” She slurs, her tongue poking out between her teeth in a lewd gesture, her eyes roaming over Seth with open, hungry appreciation.

Seth’s does not blink. He meets her gaze head-on, his own eyes narrowing. “Bite me.” He shoots back, his voice flat but with a sharp edge that makes Tori’s eyebrows raise in appreciation.

C-O throws her head back and laughs, a loud, barking sound. “Oh, I would love to, love~” She retorts, puckering her lips and blowing him an exaggerated kiss that makes him recoil slightly.

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“Good boy.” And she dives in. She doesn’t tease. She feasts. She spreads his cheeks wider with her thumbs and plants her mouth over his hole, licking a broad, wet stripe from his taint to the base of his spine. His reaction is instant, he jerks violently, a choked scream tearing from his throat. His hands scramble against the sheets, and she does it again, and again, devouring him like he’s her last meal, her tongue flattening against his entrance, probing, demanding entry. She circles his tight ring with the pointed tip of her tongue, applying pressure until she feels the muscle give, just a little, and she pushes inside. The feeling of his hot, clenching cunt around her tongue is fucking divine as he makes a continuous, ragged, sobbing noise above her, his hips twitching, trying to push back against her face or escape the overwhelming sensation.

She continues to fuck him with her tongue, shallow, then deeper, her nose pressed against his taint. She reaches between his legs with one hand and finds his balls, rolling them in her palm, squeezing gently. Her other hand wraps around his leaking cock, stroking him in time with the thrusts of her tongue. The boy feels so good he’s babbling now, a stream of “oh god” and “fuck” and “please, please, please.” His body is trembling, a fine, constant shake. She can feel his orgasm building, coiling tight in the base of his spine. Eventually, She pulls her mouth away with a wet, obscene Slurp, her chin glistening with his taste. She looks up at his wrecked face. He’s panting, tears of overstimulation gathering in the corners of his eyes. “Not yet, sweetheart~” She growls, giving his cock a firm, warning squeeze that makes him whimper. “You don’t get to nut from just my tongue. You’re gonna cum on my cock. You understand me?”