Unstoppable (25 page)

Ripp was a favorite here, and drew quite a crowd to the gym. Since Shane’s signing to fight for the championship, he no longer actually fought here, and only sparred against Ripp and another fighter that came in from Houston from time-to-time. Most of Shane’s sparing matches were closed door matches, not even open to the public. Shane had become quite a celebrity in Austin, and keeping his training and fighting style a secret was becoming difficult. As I leaned against the ropes, my gloves at my side, Mike stepped into the ring.

Seeing Ripp in shorts, gloves, and no shirt was more than any woman could prepare for. Regardless of whether or not he was fighting or had a fight scheduled, he never missed a workout. His rippled stomach made me wet looking at it. His massive chest flared as he took a breath, and he often made his pectoral muscles jump up and down to tease me when we were fucking. He knew it made me melt when he did it. Topped off with his smoothly shaved head and tattoos, he was a walking aphrodisiac.

And he was mine.

“So, the ROT rally starts here next week, you ready?” he asked.

“Absolutely, are we done training?” I responded as I pushed myself off the ropes.

“Well, we’d been at it for damned near two hours when he showed up screaming,” he laughed.

I absolutely loved riding on the back of his motorcycle, and enjoyed it as much as riding in the Chevelle. The car was a totally different pleasure, but it was a pleasure none-the-less. The bike was a seven hundred pound vibrator. I could almost climax riding on it.

“Okay, let’s call it a day. It’s Sunday and I have next week off,” I paused, “let’s go eat something light and get some sleep, I’m beat.”

“Alright. Let’s do it,” he said as he held the ropes.

As I stepped through the ropes, I heard it. A thundering rumble from outside the gym, getting increasingly louder. I looked toward the door as it felt like the walls began to shake.

“What in the world is going on?” I asked as I stepped onto the floor.

“Sounds like bikes. A lot of em,” he responded as he looked up toward the door.

The noise got so loud it sounded like it was in the gym. I’d heard motorcycles before, but this sounded like an entire motorcycle gang was pulling into the parking lot. The thundering continued. As the hair on my arms stood up, I could actually feel the rumble. In a matter of seconds, it stopped.

“Well, with the rally starting it’s hard to say, babe. Just stay close to me. Probably people looking for that fucking Dekk,” Michael said as we walked toward the door.

One problem with the gym was the lack of windows. For reasons of privacy, I’m sure, the gym had no windows. It was an old metal building that had at some time been converted to a gym, and the perimeter walls had no windows. There were windows in the building, but they were in the offices, nit in the gym itself. As we continued to walk across the floor toward the door that opened into the parking lot, it opened, revealing a parking lot full of motorcycles.

“Holy shit, looks like about twenty or more. Jesus,” Ripp said as a man walked into the gym.

He was tall, lean, and muscular. His arms were covered in several tattoos, and he appeared to be shirtless, but was wearing a motorcycle club leather vest with patches on it. Two other men stood behind him on the sidewalk.

“What can I do for ya, brother? We’re closed, just locking up,” Ripp said as we walked up to the door.

“Stay behind me, babe,” he whispered over his shoulder.

“Okay,” I responded as I stepped behind him.

“Well, we rode into town for ROT. Saw in the flyer for the rally you were having fights over the weekend. It said there were limited spots. We were at the bar on the next street up, and I made a bet with the President. Kind of like to get a fight in, just to say I did it. I ain’t fought since the Corps. To tell you the truth, we didn’t think anyone would be here. We were just going to see if we could find the place and saw the scoot in the lot. You ride?” he asked.

“Yep,” Ripp responded.

“So, there any spots left?” the man asked.

“Yeah, we got some paperwork to fill out in the office, but it’s locked. Can you come back in the morning?” Ripp asked.

The first man nodded and turned to the side as another man walked into the gym. He was huge, had dark hair, a beard, and was also wearing a biker club style leather vest. As he looked around the gym, the first man spoke again. As he began to talk, I noticed he had a Marine Corps tattoo on his arm.

“Yeah, we’ll be back in the morning. You save me two spots? One of the other fellas said he’ll fight if there’s another spot. Kind of an inside bet with the club. Bragging rights, you know how it is,” he said.

“Yep,” Ripp said, “I’ll tell the boss. His name’s Kelsey. There’s at least two left for sure, ain’t had much traffic on it yet. What’s your name?”

“My name’s Alec Jacob. Don’t really go by that. You ride, so call me Train or A-Train,” he said as he held his hand out.

“I’m Mike Ripton, call me Ripp. Pleasure to meet you, A-Train,” Ripp said as he held his gloved hand in the air and shrugged.

“Alright. Well, it’s a nice place you have here, Ripp. We’ll leave you to it. Appreciate ya,” he said as he nodded his head and slapped the big bearded man on the shoulder.

As they turned and walked out to the parking lot, I looked through the door before he pulled it closed. At least two dozen bikes were in the lot, the majority of which had leather vest wearing members of their club sitting on them.

“Wow, that was scary for a second,” I sighed.

“Awwe, just some fella’s in from out of town lookin’ for a fight babe. It’s kinda what bikers do; ride, fuck, and fight,” he laughed as we walked to the locker room.

There was no doubt Michael liked to fuck. No doubt. But adding to that a weekend of fighting, a few hundred thousand bikes and bikers…

Fucking, fighting, and riding on the motorcycle had become my three most favorite things to do, ever.

Ever.

VEE.
My back arched and my eyes watered as he pulled the belt that was cinched around my neck a little tighter. We’d been fucking for two hours and I was nothing short of an exhausted, shaking, emotional mess. Using items around the house for BDSM pleasure may not be the safest thing to do, but it sure proved to be effective. Additionally, we both believed the spur of the moment type of sex was far more enjoyable than planned adventures with store bought toys.

He pulled the belt tighter as he forced himself into my wet pussy. I bit my lip and groaned. My back arched to the point of pain to relieve some of the pressure on my neck, the dried wax on my chest and stomach cracked and fell onto the bed.

“What did I tell you, my sexy little brunette beast? What the fuck did I tell you?” He growled as his hand slapped my ass.

The slap forced me forward and added a little pressure to the belt around my neck. My eyes rolled back in my head as I opened my mouth and attempted to speak.

“Ten, sir. Ten,” I grunted as I continued to bite my lip.

I inhaled a shallow breath and tasted the light scent of the burning candle that filled the air of the room. I closed my eyes and waited for him to let me have it.

“That’s fucking right.
Ten.
And how many times have you cum? How fucking many?” he hollered as he slapped my ass.

My pussy felt as if it were on fire. The ache was both annoying and an assurance of what we had been doing for several hours now. It, for the most part, was a welcome annoyance. With Ripp, I stayed wet for hours, but his pounding me with that pierced cock literally pummeled my pussy into a swollen mess. He had, over time, figured out how to keep me from cumming. Slapping my ass and changing positions didn’t allow me to relax. To cum, I needed to focus and/or relax, even if for a few seconds. I felt the tension on the belt begin to relax.

This son-of-a-bitch.

“Time to change it up,” he bellowed.

His hands gripped my hips and quickly flipped me onto my back. As I looked up at him, I sighed. And smiled.

Wrong thing to do.

“What? You fuckin’ bored?” he howled.

On his knees and in between my legs, he looked down at me and shook his head.

“Bite that lip,” he demanded as he reached for the candle.

As his left hand covered my eyes, and pressed my head firmly into the comforter, I felt the hot wax on my left nipple. The wax that was already covering them kept the burning sensation minimal. He had learned that shading my eyes while dripping the hot wax on me was for more pleasurable for us both. For me, the not knowing when it was coming was extremely sensual.

“Hell, you probably can’t even feel that, can you?” he whispered.

I didn’t respond. Clenching my teeth and biting my lip, I waited. A few seconds passed.

“Bend your fucking knees and point that little honey pot of yours up in the air for me, I’m going to beat it up some more,” he demanded as he continued to press his hand over my eyes.

I bent my knees until my sneakers were against the cheeks of my ass grabbed my shins with my hands and pulled myself backward, pointing my pussy straight up. A few seconds passed.

“How’s my pussy?” he asked.

“Good,” I responded.

“How’s my pussy,” he grunted again.

“Holy fucking shit!” I screamed as the hot wax came in contact with my swollen clit.

I sighed as I felt the bed shift and heard him place the candle on the night stand. I felt his fingers on my clit, removing the small portion of wax he had dripped onto me.

“We don’t want that being shoved up in there, now do we?” he asked.

“No sir,” I responded.

His hand moved from covering my eyes as he pressed his hips against the back of my thighs. I watched as he took his right hand, grasped the base of his cock, and began flicking the pierced tip along my soaking wet pussy.  From bottom to top, he flipped the tip along my swollen pussy, clicking the ring that pierced his cock against my clit.

“Watch me do this, damn you,” he demanded.

“I am,” I whispered as I watched the tip glide across my pussy lips.

The muscles on his arms flared as he moved his cock. Slightly bent over, his stomach muscles rippled from the
fuck me lines
on his abdomen to his lower chest. I looked up at his unshaven face and tried to refrain from smiling.

“Don’t argue with me,” he grunted as he looked up.

“Yes sir,” I sighed.

I watched as he continued. As he inhaled a breath, his massive chest swelled. I felt my body tingle each time the ring came in contact with my clit. I closed my eyes. I was so close. If he stuck his cock in my now, I’d cum in a second. He knew it, and he was torturing me. Methodically, and predictably, his cock continued to slide up to my clit until he flicked it with the ring. The tingling was becoming more like an electric shock. Now, each time it came in contact, my tingling butt puckered. I was done. I opened my eyes, afraid of repercussion if he caught me
not
watching him torture me.

A puddle of emotion, tears, cum, and candle wax, I lay on the bed, my knees to my chest, and watched as a tattooed two hundred and thirty pound tattooed maniac smiled and tortured my clit into a swollen nub. This is what I thought I wanted. This is what I prayed for. This is what I spent five years reading about. This was my dream.

This was Michael Allen Ripton at work.

And I watched, grateful that he was mine.

“I’m getting bored,” he sighed as he looked down into my eyes.

I did my best to keep from smiling. I wanted that cock. Ten inches of thick, pierced, throbbing cock. Attached to the meanest, most protective, sex crazed maniac in Texas, the combination was sheer heaven.

“Fuck it, I want that pussy,” he breathed.

Thank God.

“Who’s pussy is this,” he asked as he shook his cock at my pussy.

“Yours, Ripp. Ripp’s pussy,” I looked up at the ceiling and screamed.

“Mine,” he bellowed as he slowly pushed himself into me.

I gasped as I felt the tip bottom out inside of me. This position, of all positions, ensured every last inch of him was inside of me. It was painful, but I loved it the same. I closed my eyes and relaxed as I felt him slide in and out twice.

Here it comes.

My entire body felt as if was shaking. Tremors filled me from my ass to my nipples.
Holy fuck, I can’t breathe
. Confused, I opened my eyes and looked around the room. I closed them again. My body began to tingle all over as I felt the tension within me build.

His cock slid out and then back to bottom. Out, and then back in to bottom. Out again, and then…

I came.

Hard.

“Ohhhhhhh…”

“Fuuuuuckkk,” I groaned.

I opened my eyes to a blurry room. My pussy contracted from deep within, clenching his cock like a vise.

Slowly and steadily, he continued to fuck me, his cock swelling inside of me. I continued to cum as I heard his breathing become labored.

And he exploded.

The force of his orgasm inside of me felt like I had been poked. As his warm cum filled me, I opened my eyes and smiled. No matter what means caused us to reach this climax, The ending, the finale, the climax on his and my part both made me want to become a girl again and cry. I had fallen head over god damned heels for this man, and sharing this with him made me feel so full, it was if I was going to explode. The emotion of having everything I want in one man was more than I could take at times, and certainly more than I felt like I ever deserved.

“Oh fuuuuck, babe,” he groaned slowly as he looked down at me and collapsed onto my chest.

He turned his head and kissed the left side of my neck. Goosebumps developed on my left arm as he did.  I twisted my neck and forced his mouth from my neck with my cheek.

“Don’t move,” I whispered.

He laid there on my chest for a considerable time, until his breathing became shallow and his cock flaccid.

“I need to pee, babe,” I whispered in his ear.

He raised his chest from mine and kissed me on the lips lightly. I smiled, rolled off of the bed, and waddled to the bathroom. On my way out of the bathroom, I looked in the mirror. Covered in candle wax, my hair a tangled mess of shit, and my face flush, I looked like beautiful shit. After a short consideration of cleaning myself up, I shook my head, flipped off the light, and walked to the bedroom. I wanted to lie with him on the bed more than anything.