Big Booty Bitches Ch. 28

"Mmmmmmmmm, come on. I want you to fuck me in the ass, I need it."

Taking the first thrust into her ass, he bit his lower lip and groaned as Demi gasped. Jacob replied to her as he moved his hands to grip her phat cheeks.

"Ohhhhh, you need it, huh? You need this cock in your ass, you dirty fucking bitch?"

"Yes, I need it! Give it to me! GIVE IT TO ME, FUCK MY ASS YOU SEXY MAN!!"

Being called 'sexy man' wasn't something Jacob expected at all. He pushed his feet down into the bed sheets beneath him, spreading his legs as he began to pumping his cock into Demi's firm tight ass. She moved her hands to the edge of the bed, as the pillow was far out of reach from her hands. Biting her lower lip, she moaned before hollering to him again.

"JUST LIKE THAT, OHHHHH YES!! FUCK MY ASS, YEAH!! GIVE IT TO ME, GIVE IT TO ME!!"

Jacob wanted to smack her ass with both his hands so hard when she screamed to him, but he prevented himself. He knew it deep down that his orgasm was pushing closer and closer. It had been a pain thus far to hold his load all this time, but at least that was enough to tell him that he would have enough to paint her face with more spunk than he could've produced earlier. Over and over, he was still slowly ramming his cock into her dark little hole. Jacob moved slow so he could enjoy the feeling of every inch of his long rod pumping into that thick ass. Demi's tits wound bounce momentarily when he thrust in.

"YESSSSSSS, OHHHHHHHH GOD!!"

When she screamed again, Demi couldn't contain herself from balling her hands into fists and pounding them down over the bed. Jacob was panting, trying to hold back his load from exploding through her dark back door anal hole. He only wished he could fuck her ass at a longer length, but it seemed impossible. Even as he made slow thrusts, Jacob could only count three more before he had to pull his rod free from her ass. Demi knew he couldn't take it anymore, as she began to turn before he could even tell her to.

"Get on your fucking knees for me, you dirty bitch!"

"Ohhhh, you wanna cum on my face, right?"

"FUCK YEAH, GET OVER HERE!!"

Climbing up on her knees, Demi looked up into his eyes with a face that was already a bit wrecked. Her makeup smeared under her eyes and she still had spit strings in her hair and over her face, all the result of his face-fucking from minutes earlier. He took one step back, pushing his feet down into the mattress as Demi stood on her knees before him. She placed her hands over her breasts, pushing her hands into them as she began to massage them while Jacob was stroking his hard cock aimed at her face.

"Cum for me, hot shot! Cum on my face, yes!"

Demi spoke to him in a low voice, her eyes closed and begging to receive a face full of hot spunk from him. The head of his lengthy rod was aimed directly at her lips. Jacob grunted as he felt the surge pushing through his veins.

"I'M CUMMING, FUCK!!"

Just as he spit out his words, Jacob's cock began to explode. The first initial blasts of cum were thick and stringy, shooting direct lines up the middle of her forehead and streaking into her hair. He painted three direct lines, all going down her nose before he made a splattering wad connect under her right eye. Demi remained seated with her eyes closed, moaning as she felt his hot seed flying across her smooth skin. Another line went up forehead, streaking over her right eyebrow while one strand of cum dripped down from her chin and fell to her breasts below.

"Mmmmmm, yeah that's it. Cover me good, you dirty man."

She gritted her teeth, causing her words to growl as she talked dirty to him. Demi began to slowly grin, all before she cracked up giggling as the cum was dripping from her face. She suddenly remembered how the night began and just what she had done that caused her to go back to this jock's dorm and fuck his brains out. For a one night stand, this was something that felt completely satisfied with her filthy desires. It wouldn't be long before she would clean her face, put her clothes back on and head out the door. Jacob had memories that would last for him within a lifetime, all thanks to a party he wouldn't have been attending if not for his football stardom at the university.

******************

Across town, a mansion sat in the darkness beyond a gate that had been opened from the inside. A dog from another property was barking loudly, though nothing could be seen outside except a few lights brightening the surface near the front door. Three bodies remained lifeless outside the gate, all in pools of blood from gunshot wounds to the back. A van was parked in the opposite direction in the driveway, clearly intentional for a fast escape. Beyond the doors, a grim scene awaited anyone who may have stumbled inside the house. This wasn't a normal home invasion by any means. Not in a wealthy neighborhood like Baypoint, right in the upper east side of the town. Such an event had been clearly orchestrated and thoroughly planned by a small crew who had now been inside the mansion for an hour with their hostage.

A man stood tall in the living room, right under a double-staircase decorated in gold and white. His appearance was notable with a black pinstripe suit, wearing a white shirt underneath with no tie beneath his collar. A luxury watch was on his left wrist; a chain over the right and a few rings around his pinky and ring fingers on both hands and finally, a gold necklace visible with his shirt and jacket unbuttoned, all in gold. Clutched in his right hand was a black pistol, fitted with a silencer to suppress the loudness of shots fired. Ramón Diaz had changed, not only in appearance but profession too. This wasn't a robbery, this was a take over and rub out. New names were rising in the drug business of the Miami underworld. He and his brother Carlos had staged the takeover of a drug lord's operations, all after paying off three of his security guards and leading to the silent murder of the rest. Tonight's work came after three whole weeks of careful plotting.

The assault of the fortified home had went over in a matter of minutes, all thanks to the intel of their new goons who had turn-coated their former employer. Ramón led the charge, sneaking beyond the gates, killing the guards outside and then opening the gates to allow entry of the van. Once the front doors had been kicked in, it was easy to take control of the house between the five men. Two servants were murdered at sight while Ramón ordered their newly hired thugs to go upstairs and wake up the old man and drag him down to his living room. The man leading the entire operation was Carlos, keeping his hands busy with another paid henchman who helped show him where the vault in the home was where drugs were kept. The intel from their new friends had surely paid off, as everyone had a price when money was involved.

"What is this? Is it money you want? I've got plenty of cash, if you'll let me show you..."

On the floor, the old man spoke up to his captors holding guns to him. Over his body, all he wore was a white robe, as he had clearly been sleeping when the home invasion took place. His head was mostly bald, as his hair had fell out a long time ago and his mustache had faded grey. He had yet to lay eyes on Carlos or Ramón. The goons holding him captive were dressed in jeans, black sweat shirts and wore matching black balaclava ski masks over their faces. They didn't say a word back to their captive. In their arms, they held Uzi sub-machines with large silencers attached to the end of the gun's barrels. Carlos was finally finished loading up the back of the van, as he ran back into the house brandishing a short, black painted Ithaca 37 shotgun in both hands. Ramón stepped towards the living room, looking at the old man who was still on the floor pleading for his life.

"Please don't kill me, I can make you rich. Very rich! Just listen to me, please."

"Shut your fucking mouth, you old fossil."

Suddenly, the other man stepped forward through the door way and the old man's eyes became enlarged as he looked up at Carlos. He wore a white pinstriped suit, almost matching his brother's, except for a dark red shirt underneath. They both wore an equal amount of bling, all in shiny gold. The only notable difference to Carlos besides his wardrobe, was a grisly scar over the left side of his forehead. The scar line was visible, as his hair was cut short and slick back now. It formed after an altercation he had some months back in the bathroom of a club. The old man shook his head as he glanced up at Carlos.

"Carlos, I heard that you were dead."

A sinister laugh crackled as Carlos shook his head.

"You heard fake news, cabrón..."

It wasn't hard to see the fear over the man's face from Carlos' perspective. He had this man right where he wanted him, on his knees begging for his life.

"What is this? Why are you coming in here with guns?"

Carlos stepped forward, holding the short shotgun in both hands as he grinned down to his hostage. Shaking his head, he whistled before replying to him.

"I'm here to take over, you stupid old fuck. Your time is over, I'm the man in charge now. What used to be yours is about to become mine, starting tonight."

After speaking, he cocked the gun ready to fire.

CLA-CLICK!

The old man raised his hands up, pleading for his life once more. Carlos spoke to him in Spanish as he waved the gun point-blank to his face.

"Di las buenas noches, tu tiempo ha terminado."

"NOOOOOOOOO!!"

TO BE CONTINUED