another potd porno lol
This one is western Justin ;) kinda...more like slick, fedora wearing Justin in the west.....
The Stickup
Two gentlemen stand in a dusty, dirty, dark ally in between the bank and the local tailor shop of the small town of Benson. While one smokes a cigarette and loads three bullets into his revolver the other sips on a flask of the finest whiskey he owns, then resituates his hat.
The shorter man, who’s a runaway from home, and only a mere 20 years old, blows out a stream of smoke and shakes his head, “Why does it always have to be banks?”
“Kid…” The taller, slightly older gentleman glares, running his tongue around his teeth, tasting the sweet, wooden flavor that the liquor left in his mouth. He’s the runner of this operation. “I’m paying you to do your job and keep your trap shut. Not to ask questions.”
The kid shrugs, throws his cigarette to the ground and stomps on it with his boot, still holding onto his gun in his right hand. “I’m just curious, Mr. Timberlake. I mean, I prefer beds. I just don’t understand the whole bank thing.”
Mr. Timberlake smirks, slides his flask into his vest pocket and says, “It’s her preference.” He tugs the bandana that was tied around his neck up over his mouth and nose. “You ready?”
His accomplice nods, pulls up his own mask and nods towards the entrance of the alleyway. It’s a bright, sunny morning in Benson but few people are out, the weather is already dry and sickeningly hot and rumor has it there are bad men a foot.
The two men enter the bank calmly, coolly, stepping into the center of the lobby. The kid raises his arm and shoots two bullets into the ceiling of the bank.
Screams and yells are heard until Mr. Timberlake steps closer, pulls his gun from the holster around his side and points it at the innocent bystanders. “Excuse me ladies and gentlemen,” He yells but remains calm, his voice animated and slick. “This is a stick up! If everyone would please drop their belongings and stop whatever it is you are doing and lay straight down on the floor.”
The customers of the bank slowly drop their purses and bank stubs and everyone kneels down to the floor, crouching. Mr. Timberlake smiles to himself. Normally he hates looking at fear in the face, but he smiles, all the dirty thoughts running through his mind as his eyes travel from person to person in the bank. Luckily there are only a handful of customers this hazy morning.
If only they knew…
“You there…” The kid yells at the bank tellers, pointing his gun at them. “Don’t fucking move.”
Mr. Timberlake eyes keep scanning the room carefully under the brim of his hat and he spies his prize and smiles beneath his bandana. He steps over a few bodies, saying “excuse me” until he manages to get to the front desk. He smiles at the man behind the bank counter who has a little pin on his shirt that says “Manager” and is holding his arms up by his head, palms flat and open. Mr. Timberlake opens his mouth to speak, but then looks down and to the side.
There’s a woman there, young, in her twenties, in a thin, navy floral dress, her hair curled, a small straw hat pinned onto her head. She’s gorgeous. Her small purse rests beside her gloved hand.
He bends down and grips her neck, smiling at her with his eyes. “Well, ain’t you a pretty little thing? You’re coming with me.” He jerks her up by her arm and she squeals.
She’s crying, sniffling and pleading with him, pitifully hitting at his arm and hand that’s gripping her. “Please….please don’t hurt me!”
The customers on the floor gasp.
“Oh sweetie…” He chides. “You ain’t gonna be hurt.”
“Please…” The bank manager pleads. “Please let her go. She’s just an innocent young lady.”
“Nah, I think I’ll take my chances with her.” He says staring at the older gentleman and nodding the woman. “I’m gonna need the keys to the vault.”
“The Vault?” The manager questions and Mr. Timberlake raises the gun he had dangling in his other hand and points it against the ladies temple. He feels her body tense underneath his hand and keeps his finger against the trigger. The woman sucks in a nervous breath.
“Here!” The manager hands over the keys eagerly, anxiously. Mr. Timberlake bites his own lip to keep from laughing, if only the poor guy knew there wasn’t a single bullet in the damned gun.
“Grab ‘em.” He commands the woman and she does.
Luckily, Mr. Timberlake had scouted the property the day before, even withdrew some money from his safety deposit box for the travel they would do this day and the cash he’d need to pay off the kid-for the 10th time that year. He knew exactly where the vault was and he knew exactly what he wanted from there. It was a small bank, a manageable bank, and he knew this would be an easy snatch. He nods thanks to the manger, grips the woman’s upper arm even tighter and turns to the poor bank customers who are pressing their cheeks and noses against the cold tile floor. They’re all staring at him and at his accomplice in fear.
“Now if you all excuse us, me and this sweet little lady…” He pauses. “Sweet little lady, what’s your name?”
“M-Mary…” She chokes out.
He wants to laugh at her, but he doesn’t. “Me and Mary are going to do some little exploring in the vault. Now behave for my friend here and no one will get hurt. Ain’t that right, Mary?”
He grips her arm, laughs and tugs her backwards past the teller desk and through the small back hallway to a thick metal door that’s hidden from the view of the customers.
“Open it.” He demands and she fumbles with the keys for a moment before opening the door. They enter, him still gripping her arm and she starts hitting him, letting her anger out on his chest and shoulders. The sad, scared woman from before has been changed into an angry one and it turns him on.
“You’re hurting me!” She hisses at him, trying to elbow him in the stomach. He’s too smooth for her though and twists her so her body is pressed in between his slender frame and the small metal table in the center of the vault.
“What was that?” He grits at her.
“Stop it!” She squirms.
“Mary?” He laughs. “Could you have picked a more creative name?” She smacks his face and he stares at her in slight shock. Her mouth is tight, frowning, but her eyes are sparkling and excited. He sets his gun against the table and takes both her wrists in his large hands and pins them back against the table on her sides, leaning into her. He presses his crotch against the front of her dress so she can feel how much he wants her.
“Fucking slut.” He spits out, “I’ll never understand you and what gets you off.”
“You get me off….” She’s smiling now and he lets go of her wrists and grabs her hips, setting her up on the table. Her legs wrap around his waist immediately and her hands pull down the bandana covering his face. She smiles at him and he grins back at her before she pulls his mouth against her own, rubbing her body against his.
“Oh Justin…” She sighs when his lips trail down against her neck and his hands work greedily on the buttons down the center of her dress.
She’s rubbing her pelvis against his black pants and he needs to let them lose, to let his cock breathe and then sink down in against her. She tosses his hat to the floor and moves to kiss his mouth again, sucking his tongue in her own and pulling away by biting his lip.
He sighs and leans his forehead against her own. They smile at each other and take a breath before attacking each other again, crotches rubbing, hands touching, lips everywhere. He kisses down her neck and chest, licking around her breasts and cleavage as her tiny gloved hands run over his shoulder and the head she shaved for him that morning.
He never understood how it happened but he never complained and was so thankful she was with him. She was supposed to marry that rich asshole from up north who threw her around and called her names. Justin was just a friend of a friend. They met at a gala, her dressed in diamonds and him in a suit. They had a few drinks, snuck out of the party and back to this hotel room for another drink.
She admitted to him that she was scared of her fiancé, that her stepmother was forcing her to marry him and that she wanted to get away. So after a night of intense passion and little sleep, they created a scheme and it worked. He had always been good at playing his cards right and had been known to be quite creative in his endeavors. They managed to steal half of the multi-millionaire’s money and were long, long gone, disappeared out west, together, fucking in every city along the way.
One day soon after settling in a little cottage with a little farm and everything they’d ever need, their safe house as she called it, they went into the local town for a picture show. While sitting in the theatre, watching a scene where a man robbed a bank and took a bright, young woman as a hostage, she leaned over and whispered in his ear that she wanted that.
He was at a loss for words. They already had more money than they knew what to do with. But she wanted it and he figured out a scheme that worked where no one would get hurt. They found a kid that was a trustworthy accomplice and needed the help and was swilling to work for them at home…and on the road. And they just started doing it.
Robbing banks….
…of their time.
She never wanted money, she just wanted to fuck.
And now, in this particular bank in Benson, she kisses him and kisses him, tasting the flavor of the alcohol against his lips and wanting him to pour it all over her body in celebration when they got home. She’d let him lick it off her. She wanted to bathe in it.
“That bank manager looked a little shaky…” He says when her hands move down the front of his vest, pulling out his flask, unscrewing the top and taking a swig herself. “We should probably do this fast to ease his stress.”
She smirks at him a little and pulls his neck forward to ravish his mouth with kisses again. Seconds later she scoots off the table, brushing her body against the strain in his tight black pants. She bites her lip, looking down at it, loving the way the bulge is curved and tight. It might be her fantasy, but it gets him going just as much.
She glances at the vault door to the side of them and then leans over the table, resting up on her elbows, her gloved hands flat on the metal surface. She sticks out her ass, swaying it back and forth slowly, teasingly. Her breasts are falling out of her half unbuttoned dress, threatening to spill out over the top of her corset underneath.
She closes her eyes in a slow blink and then whispers, “This way…”
He wastes no time and slides his gun closer to her as he steps behind her. “Yes ma’am.”
He immediately pulls up the material of her dress. What a naughty little girl, he thinks. No slip. No knickers. No bloomers. Not a damn thing but bare, smooth skin.
And wetness. Lots and lots of wetness.
He touches her there, making her moan aloud. He teases, sliding his fingers up and down, smearing her juices all along her lower lips. All the while he moves his hand down and undoes his pants and pulls out his cock, swollen, thick and ready. He strokes himself.
Normally he’d pump her with his fingers for a moment, get her good and wet and going, but she’s already almost there this time and he pulls his fingers away and tastes her, sucking her wetness off his long digits, wishing he had more time to really prop her up on this table and really, really fucking taste her.
Maybe when they get away. Maybe he’ll let the kid drive them back so they can have the small back seat to themselves.
“Please…” She whines and he complies, taking his dick in his hand and holding her hip with the other. She starts pushing back with her ass, her pussy searching for his dick. Damn, he thinks, she really fucking wants it.
He presses the purple head against her swollen slit and plans on teasing her, on rubbing it up and down and everywhere, but she’s too swift for him and surges her hips back, sucking him up in her wet, tight walls, clenching him and not letting go.
“Yes….” She moans, her head hanging down. He bites his lip at the feel and lets out a small, quiet “fuck” before running his hand up the spans of her back and moving his hand into her hair. The hat that’s clipped to her hair is about to fall out and he knows she’ll be pissed off at her appearance, but he doesn’t care. She looks wild and vicious bending before him, hair a mess, looking over her shoulder at him with desire-filled eyes.
And he starts. He starts slow, gripping her hair, keeping her head up. His other hand is holing her ass against his lap so he can thrust against her real well at a certain pace and a certain rhythm that he knows she’ll love.
He’s learned every curve and spot on her body and he knows exactly what to do to make it go wild.
He thinks about her breasts and her little hard nipples pressed and rubbing into the metal table, probably out over her corset now, shaking with every thrust. He starts to go harder, liking the way she feels, liking the way she sounds-not just the hisses and the moans from her mouth but the slurping from her pussy that’s so wet. He knows she’s dripping against her thighs and maybe even the floor.
He grips her skin and her hair for a moment before letting his hands fall back against the material of her dress and then down to her ass again, holding her hips steady with both hands and pulling almost all the way out and surging back in, over and over. She moans his name and begs for more and he knows his dick could shoot off at any minute, but he holds it back, letting it last, keeping her going.
He kind of wants to make her scream, ya know. Make the poor people out in the lobby think.
He wishes she were naked and he wishes they were on their bed back home, with the mirror over the dresser, him watching her naked body bent and shaking before him. Able to see her face as he fucks her and shoots his cum in her. He loves seeing the little surprised look on her face. She always smiles when he shoots in her, happy, as if she loves it, as if she wants it and she’ll grind her hips down hard making sure it coats her completely and hits against her spot.
And then she’ll bite his shoulder and say “Justin…I’m...I’m gonna--” But she’ll never get it out cause she’s already there, cuming all over him, squeezing every drop of cum out of his dick and thrashing about his body and against his cock.
He starts fucking her hard, making him grunt with every inward thrust and she keeps chanting “yes” to him, real low, gritting out, as they both try to get each other there.
But then something happens. It’s right when he feels like he could explode, when he could coat her insides and make her wobble…make it drip down her legs so that when they walk out of this place, gun against her head, masks against their faces, her doing that great fake cry of hers, someone might notice it: the flush in her face and the smile in her eyes…
Realizing that they didn’t steal a god damn thing.
“Don’t move!”
“Shit!” She screams and it’s a natural reaction, a gut reaction when he pushes his dick all the way in her, grabs his gun and points it to the vault door that’s now open. Fuck, how did he not hear it open? There’s one of the tellers there, a young man who almost looks too young to be working here. He can’t be older than 17 and he’s shaking and pointing at them with a rifle.
But the boy pulls the gun down slightly and stares at them with wide eyes. Justin smiles at the young man who whispers, “Oh my god…”
Justin takes a breath, puts his hand on the curve of her ass to let her know it’ll be ok, that he’s going to handle this and get them out of it. Then he cocks the gun at the boy. “Put the gun down, son.” He says slowly, calmly. He can feel her pussy contracting around him and even though he knows she’s scared out of her mind right now, her body is loving the thrill.
“No,” the boy squeaks out.
Justin smiles at him and nods at the woman bent in front of them, “Put the gun down, and I’ll let you watch me fuck her.”
The boy’s grip on the gun loosens and Justin grins as he watches the guy look over his woman. She really is a pretty little thing, with ample, squeezable breasts, a curved ass, tiny waist, sexy hips. He lips are full and look great when they’re tasting his cock, and her eyes are deep and soulful.
The boy starts to chew on his lip and he knows damn well no 17 year old boy would be able to resist seeing this woman get fucked. It’d be better than any burlesque show in the world.
“Yeah…she’s a pretty thing, ain’t she?” As if it’s a split second decision the kid puts the gun down. “Thatta boy…” Justin coaxes and says, “On the table…” The boy willingly puts the gun on the table. “Grab it baby.” Justin says and keeps his gun pointed at the boy. He smiles when his woman grabs the gun and pulls it closer to her body, finally managing it underneath her chest where she’s propped up on her arms. “Now stand against the wall, be quiet, and watch.”
The boy takes a breath and goes to the wall, sliding against it until he gets to the spot that Justin is pointing at with his gun. He keeps his back flat against the wall and gulps as Justin holds the gun pointed at his head. Justin smiles at him and backs out of his woman’s pussy and slides back in.
“Fucking shit…” She moans and hangs her head.
“No baby. You stare at this nice young man. Curse at him. Lick your sexy lips at him. Tell him how good it feels when my cock fucks you this way.”
She groans again and he knows this is dangerous. He knows this is beyond anything that’s happened to them, but he didn’t know what else to do and the way her pussy is flooding him and clenching him he knows the idea of someone watching them, the idea of this young, fresh faced kid staring at her get fucked by her man, he knows its going to send her over the edge.
He speeds up quickly and soon he’s looking down at her body as he fucks her, still pointing his gun at the kid. He glances at the kid who’s face is red, and he’s licking his lips and just staring where her dress is hiked up and their bodies keep meeting thrust after slick, quick thrust.
“Please…..” He hears her whine and he keeps his gun steady and moves his hand around her hips and underneath, pressing his fingers against her spot, rubbing her little clit fast, feeling himself surge into her over and over. “Yes…” She starts to whine and shakes her head.
He smiles to himself as she starts to ask in a low, hushed voice, “Do you wish it were you? Do you wish you were fucking me? That it was your thick cock bending me over, stretching my pussy?”
The guy just looks at her, gulps and then glances at Justin. “Answer her.” Justin demands, keeping his gun pointed at him.
“Y-yes…” The boy stutters.
She starts grinding against his dick and he doesn’t stop fucking her, rubbing her clit harder and harder. He just keeps going at her, pounding her, knowing she’s getting close, feeling her getting close.
“It feels sooo good.” She moans. “I’ve been a naughty girl and he has to fuck me to make me better, to punish me, to make me cum. Do you like to cum?” The boy nods his head slowly and she starts to pants. “Shit, he stretches me and...and...” And it starts to happen. He can feel it clutching and clutching tighter and tighter the harder he goes, and he can tell by the high pitched tone of her voice, she’s about to cum for him and for this pathetic young man. “…he fucking...makes….Shit!!” She screams.
“Yes...” The kid whispers.
“Yeah baby…” Justin groans and holds her steady with his hand and fucks her and fucks her as she bangs her gloved fists against the table and shakes her head. Her body still thrusting against his, cuming harder and harder as time goes on. He can hear her make little squealing noises from deep within her throat and starts to feel his balls tense and his dick spasm. “Cum all over my dick…shit…” He shoots his cum up in her, shoot after shoot, thrusting and thrusting, saying “oh fuck…” until he cant handle it anymore, until he’s tired, until his dick is numb.
He stops and feels her body relax against the table.
He sighs and sees the kid has a painful look on his face and has his hands gripping the crotch of his pants.
Justin pulls out of her and kindly pulls her dress back over her ass, patting her there with his hand. His arm is starting to get a little tired from holding his gun up and he decides to take a chance. He realizes this kid ain’t going no where, especially not with a hard on or cum in his pants.
She pushes herself off the table and turns, sighing just a bit. She’s smiling at him and he leans in and kisses her. To hell with the boy now. She pulls away happy, buttoning up her dress and resituating herself. She kisses him again when she’s done buttoning and whispers “thanks” against his lips. Justin laughs at her and reaches to pick up his hat from the floor and places it on his head. He pulls the bandana back up over his mouth and she picks up and holds the rifle in her one hand. They start to leave, her holding onto one of his arms, clutching him, smiling up at him.
“Hold up babe.” He says and he turns, fishes down in his pocket and pulls out his money clip. He sets down several twenties on the table and nods at the boy whose hand is still gripping the front of his pants. “Thanks for keeping your mouth shut, kid. Hope you had as much fun as we did. Use it to buy yourself a good time.” He winks at the boy who’s just staring at the money.
“Bye sweetie.” Justin laughs as his woman waves at the boy and he grips her arm again and she tries to fix her hair a little.
“Let’s take you home.” She smiles up at him and he doesn’t know why he lets her do this to him, or why he agrees, but it’s worth it, so fucking worth it. And he can’t wait until next week, when they go to another small town and do it all over again.
The Stickup
Two gentlemen stand in a dusty, dirty, dark ally in between the bank and the local tailor shop of the small town of Benson. While one smokes a cigarette and loads three bullets into his revolver the other sips on a flask of the finest whiskey he owns, then resituates his hat.
The shorter man, who’s a runaway from home, and only a mere 20 years old, blows out a stream of smoke and shakes his head, “Why does it always have to be banks?”
“Kid…” The taller, slightly older gentleman glares, running his tongue around his teeth, tasting the sweet, wooden flavor that the liquor left in his mouth. He’s the runner of this operation. “I’m paying you to do your job and keep your trap shut. Not to ask questions.”
The kid shrugs, throws his cigarette to the ground and stomps on it with his boot, still holding onto his gun in his right hand. “I’m just curious, Mr. Timberlake. I mean, I prefer beds. I just don’t understand the whole bank thing.”
Mr. Timberlake smirks, slides his flask into his vest pocket and says, “It’s her preference.” He tugs the bandana that was tied around his neck up over his mouth and nose. “You ready?”
His accomplice nods, pulls up his own mask and nods towards the entrance of the alleyway. It’s a bright, sunny morning in Benson but few people are out, the weather is already dry and sickeningly hot and rumor has it there are bad men a foot.
The two men enter the bank calmly, coolly, stepping into the center of the lobby. The kid raises his arm and shoots two bullets into the ceiling of the bank.
Screams and yells are heard until Mr. Timberlake steps closer, pulls his gun from the holster around his side and points it at the innocent bystanders. “Excuse me ladies and gentlemen,” He yells but remains calm, his voice animated and slick. “This is a stick up! If everyone would please drop their belongings and stop whatever it is you are doing and lay straight down on the floor.”
The customers of the bank slowly drop their purses and bank stubs and everyone kneels down to the floor, crouching. Mr. Timberlake smiles to himself. Normally he hates looking at fear in the face, but he smiles, all the dirty thoughts running through his mind as his eyes travel from person to person in the bank. Luckily there are only a handful of customers this hazy morning.
If only they knew…
“You there…” The kid yells at the bank tellers, pointing his gun at them. “Don’t fucking move.”
Mr. Timberlake eyes keep scanning the room carefully under the brim of his hat and he spies his prize and smiles beneath his bandana. He steps over a few bodies, saying “excuse me” until he manages to get to the front desk. He smiles at the man behind the bank counter who has a little pin on his shirt that says “Manager” and is holding his arms up by his head, palms flat and open. Mr. Timberlake opens his mouth to speak, but then looks down and to the side.
There’s a woman there, young, in her twenties, in a thin, navy floral dress, her hair curled, a small straw hat pinned onto her head. She’s gorgeous. Her small purse rests beside her gloved hand.
He bends down and grips her neck, smiling at her with his eyes. “Well, ain’t you a pretty little thing? You’re coming with me.” He jerks her up by her arm and she squeals.
She’s crying, sniffling and pleading with him, pitifully hitting at his arm and hand that’s gripping her. “Please….please don’t hurt me!”
The customers on the floor gasp.
“Oh sweetie…” He chides. “You ain’t gonna be hurt.”
“Please…” The bank manager pleads. “Please let her go. She’s just an innocent young lady.”
“Nah, I think I’ll take my chances with her.” He says staring at the older gentleman and nodding the woman. “I’m gonna need the keys to the vault.”
“The Vault?” The manager questions and Mr. Timberlake raises the gun he had dangling in his other hand and points it against the ladies temple. He feels her body tense underneath his hand and keeps his finger against the trigger. The woman sucks in a nervous breath.
“Here!” The manager hands over the keys eagerly, anxiously. Mr. Timberlake bites his own lip to keep from laughing, if only the poor guy knew there wasn’t a single bullet in the damned gun.
“Grab ‘em.” He commands the woman and she does.
Luckily, Mr. Timberlake had scouted the property the day before, even withdrew some money from his safety deposit box for the travel they would do this day and the cash he’d need to pay off the kid-for the 10th time that year. He knew exactly where the vault was and he knew exactly what he wanted from there. It was a small bank, a manageable bank, and he knew this would be an easy snatch. He nods thanks to the manger, grips the woman’s upper arm even tighter and turns to the poor bank customers who are pressing their cheeks and noses against the cold tile floor. They’re all staring at him and at his accomplice in fear.
“Now if you all excuse us, me and this sweet little lady…” He pauses. “Sweet little lady, what’s your name?”
“M-Mary…” She chokes out.
He wants to laugh at her, but he doesn’t. “Me and Mary are going to do some little exploring in the vault. Now behave for my friend here and no one will get hurt. Ain’t that right, Mary?”
He grips her arm, laughs and tugs her backwards past the teller desk and through the small back hallway to a thick metal door that’s hidden from the view of the customers.
“Open it.” He demands and she fumbles with the keys for a moment before opening the door. They enter, him still gripping her arm and she starts hitting him, letting her anger out on his chest and shoulders. The sad, scared woman from before has been changed into an angry one and it turns him on.
“You’re hurting me!” She hisses at him, trying to elbow him in the stomach. He’s too smooth for her though and twists her so her body is pressed in between his slender frame and the small metal table in the center of the vault.
“What was that?” He grits at her.
“Stop it!” She squirms.
“Mary?” He laughs. “Could you have picked a more creative name?” She smacks his face and he stares at her in slight shock. Her mouth is tight, frowning, but her eyes are sparkling and excited. He sets his gun against the table and takes both her wrists in his large hands and pins them back against the table on her sides, leaning into her. He presses his crotch against the front of her dress so she can feel how much he wants her.
“Fucking slut.” He spits out, “I’ll never understand you and what gets you off.”
“You get me off….” She’s smiling now and he lets go of her wrists and grabs her hips, setting her up on the table. Her legs wrap around his waist immediately and her hands pull down the bandana covering his face. She smiles at him and he grins back at her before she pulls his mouth against her own, rubbing her body against his.
“Oh Justin…” She sighs when his lips trail down against her neck and his hands work greedily on the buttons down the center of her dress.
She’s rubbing her pelvis against his black pants and he needs to let them lose, to let his cock breathe and then sink down in against her. She tosses his hat to the floor and moves to kiss his mouth again, sucking his tongue in her own and pulling away by biting his lip.
He sighs and leans his forehead against her own. They smile at each other and take a breath before attacking each other again, crotches rubbing, hands touching, lips everywhere. He kisses down her neck and chest, licking around her breasts and cleavage as her tiny gloved hands run over his shoulder and the head she shaved for him that morning.
He never understood how it happened but he never complained and was so thankful she was with him. She was supposed to marry that rich asshole from up north who threw her around and called her names. Justin was just a friend of a friend. They met at a gala, her dressed in diamonds and him in a suit. They had a few drinks, snuck out of the party and back to this hotel room for another drink.
She admitted to him that she was scared of her fiancé, that her stepmother was forcing her to marry him and that she wanted to get away. So after a night of intense passion and little sleep, they created a scheme and it worked. He had always been good at playing his cards right and had been known to be quite creative in his endeavors. They managed to steal half of the multi-millionaire’s money and were long, long gone, disappeared out west, together, fucking in every city along the way.
One day soon after settling in a little cottage with a little farm and everything they’d ever need, their safe house as she called it, they went into the local town for a picture show. While sitting in the theatre, watching a scene where a man robbed a bank and took a bright, young woman as a hostage, she leaned over and whispered in his ear that she wanted that.
He was at a loss for words. They already had more money than they knew what to do with. But she wanted it and he figured out a scheme that worked where no one would get hurt. They found a kid that was a trustworthy accomplice and needed the help and was swilling to work for them at home…and on the road. And they just started doing it.
Robbing banks….
…of their time.
She never wanted money, she just wanted to fuck.
And now, in this particular bank in Benson, she kisses him and kisses him, tasting the flavor of the alcohol against his lips and wanting him to pour it all over her body in celebration when they got home. She’d let him lick it off her. She wanted to bathe in it.
“That bank manager looked a little shaky…” He says when her hands move down the front of his vest, pulling out his flask, unscrewing the top and taking a swig herself. “We should probably do this fast to ease his stress.”
She smirks at him a little and pulls his neck forward to ravish his mouth with kisses again. Seconds later she scoots off the table, brushing her body against the strain in his tight black pants. She bites her lip, looking down at it, loving the way the bulge is curved and tight. It might be her fantasy, but it gets him going just as much.
She glances at the vault door to the side of them and then leans over the table, resting up on her elbows, her gloved hands flat on the metal surface. She sticks out her ass, swaying it back and forth slowly, teasingly. Her breasts are falling out of her half unbuttoned dress, threatening to spill out over the top of her corset underneath.
She closes her eyes in a slow blink and then whispers, “This way…”
He wastes no time and slides his gun closer to her as he steps behind her. “Yes ma’am.”
He immediately pulls up the material of her dress. What a naughty little girl, he thinks. No slip. No knickers. No bloomers. Not a damn thing but bare, smooth skin.
And wetness. Lots and lots of wetness.
He touches her there, making her moan aloud. He teases, sliding his fingers up and down, smearing her juices all along her lower lips. All the while he moves his hand down and undoes his pants and pulls out his cock, swollen, thick and ready. He strokes himself.
Normally he’d pump her with his fingers for a moment, get her good and wet and going, but she’s already almost there this time and he pulls his fingers away and tastes her, sucking her wetness off his long digits, wishing he had more time to really prop her up on this table and really, really fucking taste her.
Maybe when they get away. Maybe he’ll let the kid drive them back so they can have the small back seat to themselves.
“Please…” She whines and he complies, taking his dick in his hand and holding her hip with the other. She starts pushing back with her ass, her pussy searching for his dick. Damn, he thinks, she really fucking wants it.
He presses the purple head against her swollen slit and plans on teasing her, on rubbing it up and down and everywhere, but she’s too swift for him and surges her hips back, sucking him up in her wet, tight walls, clenching him and not letting go.
“Yes….” She moans, her head hanging down. He bites his lip at the feel and lets out a small, quiet “fuck” before running his hand up the spans of her back and moving his hand into her hair. The hat that’s clipped to her hair is about to fall out and he knows she’ll be pissed off at her appearance, but he doesn’t care. She looks wild and vicious bending before him, hair a mess, looking over her shoulder at him with desire-filled eyes.
And he starts. He starts slow, gripping her hair, keeping her head up. His other hand is holing her ass against his lap so he can thrust against her real well at a certain pace and a certain rhythm that he knows she’ll love.
He’s learned every curve and spot on her body and he knows exactly what to do to make it go wild.
He thinks about her breasts and her little hard nipples pressed and rubbing into the metal table, probably out over her corset now, shaking with every thrust. He starts to go harder, liking the way she feels, liking the way she sounds-not just the hisses and the moans from her mouth but the slurping from her pussy that’s so wet. He knows she’s dripping against her thighs and maybe even the floor.
He grips her skin and her hair for a moment before letting his hands fall back against the material of her dress and then down to her ass again, holding her hips steady with both hands and pulling almost all the way out and surging back in, over and over. She moans his name and begs for more and he knows his dick could shoot off at any minute, but he holds it back, letting it last, keeping her going.
He kind of wants to make her scream, ya know. Make the poor people out in the lobby think.
He wishes she were naked and he wishes they were on their bed back home, with the mirror over the dresser, him watching her naked body bent and shaking before him. Able to see her face as he fucks her and shoots his cum in her. He loves seeing the little surprised look on her face. She always smiles when he shoots in her, happy, as if she loves it, as if she wants it and she’ll grind her hips down hard making sure it coats her completely and hits against her spot.
And then she’ll bite his shoulder and say “Justin…I’m...I’m gonna--” But she’ll never get it out cause she’s already there, cuming all over him, squeezing every drop of cum out of his dick and thrashing about his body and against his cock.
He starts fucking her hard, making him grunt with every inward thrust and she keeps chanting “yes” to him, real low, gritting out, as they both try to get each other there.
But then something happens. It’s right when he feels like he could explode, when he could coat her insides and make her wobble…make it drip down her legs so that when they walk out of this place, gun against her head, masks against their faces, her doing that great fake cry of hers, someone might notice it: the flush in her face and the smile in her eyes…
Realizing that they didn’t steal a god damn thing.
“Don’t move!”
“Shit!” She screams and it’s a natural reaction, a gut reaction when he pushes his dick all the way in her, grabs his gun and points it to the vault door that’s now open. Fuck, how did he not hear it open? There’s one of the tellers there, a young man who almost looks too young to be working here. He can’t be older than 17 and he’s shaking and pointing at them with a rifle.
But the boy pulls the gun down slightly and stares at them with wide eyes. Justin smiles at the young man who whispers, “Oh my god…”
Justin takes a breath, puts his hand on the curve of her ass to let her know it’ll be ok, that he’s going to handle this and get them out of it. Then he cocks the gun at the boy. “Put the gun down, son.” He says slowly, calmly. He can feel her pussy contracting around him and even though he knows she’s scared out of her mind right now, her body is loving the thrill.
“No,” the boy squeaks out.
Justin smiles at him and nods at the woman bent in front of them, “Put the gun down, and I’ll let you watch me fuck her.”
The boy’s grip on the gun loosens and Justin grins as he watches the guy look over his woman. She really is a pretty little thing, with ample, squeezable breasts, a curved ass, tiny waist, sexy hips. He lips are full and look great when they’re tasting his cock, and her eyes are deep and soulful.
The boy starts to chew on his lip and he knows damn well no 17 year old boy would be able to resist seeing this woman get fucked. It’d be better than any burlesque show in the world.
“Yeah…she’s a pretty thing, ain’t she?” As if it’s a split second decision the kid puts the gun down. “Thatta boy…” Justin coaxes and says, “On the table…” The boy willingly puts the gun on the table. “Grab it baby.” Justin says and keeps his gun pointed at the boy. He smiles when his woman grabs the gun and pulls it closer to her body, finally managing it underneath her chest where she’s propped up on her arms. “Now stand against the wall, be quiet, and watch.”
The boy takes a breath and goes to the wall, sliding against it until he gets to the spot that Justin is pointing at with his gun. He keeps his back flat against the wall and gulps as Justin holds the gun pointed at his head. Justin smiles at him and backs out of his woman’s pussy and slides back in.
“Fucking shit…” She moans and hangs her head.
“No baby. You stare at this nice young man. Curse at him. Lick your sexy lips at him. Tell him how good it feels when my cock fucks you this way.”
She groans again and he knows this is dangerous. He knows this is beyond anything that’s happened to them, but he didn’t know what else to do and the way her pussy is flooding him and clenching him he knows the idea of someone watching them, the idea of this young, fresh faced kid staring at her get fucked by her man, he knows its going to send her over the edge.
He speeds up quickly and soon he’s looking down at her body as he fucks her, still pointing his gun at the kid. He glances at the kid who’s face is red, and he’s licking his lips and just staring where her dress is hiked up and their bodies keep meeting thrust after slick, quick thrust.
“Please…..” He hears her whine and he keeps his gun steady and moves his hand around her hips and underneath, pressing his fingers against her spot, rubbing her little clit fast, feeling himself surge into her over and over. “Yes…” She starts to whine and shakes her head.
He smiles to himself as she starts to ask in a low, hushed voice, “Do you wish it were you? Do you wish you were fucking me? That it was your thick cock bending me over, stretching my pussy?”
The guy just looks at her, gulps and then glances at Justin. “Answer her.” Justin demands, keeping his gun pointed at him.
“Y-yes…” The boy stutters.
She starts grinding against his dick and he doesn’t stop fucking her, rubbing her clit harder and harder. He just keeps going at her, pounding her, knowing she’s getting close, feeling her getting close.
“It feels sooo good.” She moans. “I’ve been a naughty girl and he has to fuck me to make me better, to punish me, to make me cum. Do you like to cum?” The boy nods his head slowly and she starts to pants. “Shit, he stretches me and...and...” And it starts to happen. He can feel it clutching and clutching tighter and tighter the harder he goes, and he can tell by the high pitched tone of her voice, she’s about to cum for him and for this pathetic young man. “…he fucking...makes….Shit!!” She screams.
“Yes...” The kid whispers.
“Yeah baby…” Justin groans and holds her steady with his hand and fucks her and fucks her as she bangs her gloved fists against the table and shakes her head. Her body still thrusting against his, cuming harder and harder as time goes on. He can hear her make little squealing noises from deep within her throat and starts to feel his balls tense and his dick spasm. “Cum all over my dick…shit…” He shoots his cum up in her, shoot after shoot, thrusting and thrusting, saying “oh fuck…” until he cant handle it anymore, until he’s tired, until his dick is numb.
He stops and feels her body relax against the table.
He sighs and sees the kid has a painful look on his face and has his hands gripping the crotch of his pants.
Justin pulls out of her and kindly pulls her dress back over her ass, patting her there with his hand. His arm is starting to get a little tired from holding his gun up and he decides to take a chance. He realizes this kid ain’t going no where, especially not with a hard on or cum in his pants.
She pushes herself off the table and turns, sighing just a bit. She’s smiling at him and he leans in and kisses her. To hell with the boy now. She pulls away happy, buttoning up her dress and resituating herself. She kisses him again when she’s done buttoning and whispers “thanks” against his lips. Justin laughs at her and reaches to pick up his hat from the floor and places it on his head. He pulls the bandana back up over his mouth and she picks up and holds the rifle in her one hand. They start to leave, her holding onto one of his arms, clutching him, smiling up at him.
“Hold up babe.” He says and he turns, fishes down in his pocket and pulls out his money clip. He sets down several twenties on the table and nods at the boy whose hand is still gripping the front of his pants. “Thanks for keeping your mouth shut, kid. Hope you had as much fun as we did. Use it to buy yourself a good time.” He winks at the boy who’s just staring at the money.
“Bye sweetie.” Justin laughs as his woman waves at the boy and he grips her arm again and she tries to fix her hair a little.
“Let’s take you home.” She smiles up at him and he doesn’t know why he lets her do this to him, or why he agrees, but it’s worth it, so fucking worth it. And he can’t wait until next week, when they go to another small town and do it all over again.