Stricken Resolve (5 page)

Is he truly accepting me and James or is this
just a one day event? Johnathan is quite the roller coaster of
emotions. Not that I’m much better in that department.

“Okay, Jesus guys this isn’t some shit you
all gotta figure out today for crying out loud. I want to know the
fucking babies names. Great. Yawl are going to live happily ever
after. But without names the babies are just going to be called he
and she. And that’s some messed up shit,” Deacon says, breaking the
tension that’s swelling in me. I think too much sometimes. I don’t
need to worry about Johnathan right now. I worry too much as it
is.

I pat my sons back and first things first. So
I know I have a James and a Johnathan. But what do you name your
son so he is named after both men in his life? Even though James’s
first name is Calvin. Nobody knows that. But I hate all boys name
with a J other than James and Johnathan.

I’ve got it!

“I have the perfect name. Since I don’t like
any other J names for boys. I think his name should be Eric. And
she should be Jenna named after you two and he can be named after
mommy.” I rub my sons back again. He’s fast asleep on my chest and
Jenna is sleeping in Papa Bear’s arms, tucked against his chest. I
guess I won’t be the only one using that spot anymore. I’ll have to
share my lover’s chest with the babies. Not that I mind.

“I agree to those names,” Johnathan says.

James nods approvingly and Deacon cheers,
pumping his tattooed fists in the air. I roll my eyes at him and
shake my head, because he’s acting a fool.

“Eric Ryan Striker,” James says finishing off
my sons name and I like it but Johnathan most certainly does not.
He crinkles up his nose and squints his eyes, in blatant
disgust.

“I know this is going to blow you all even
more out of the water. You know, because I’m such a nice guy.” I
can’t help but bark a mocking laugh and he turns his head and rolls
his eyes at me, swirling them around in his sockets like a cartoon.
Making my smile widen even further. “Cammy and I’ve talked about
it, and since James and I are going to both be dads. We thought the
kids should have both last names. Striker-James or James-Striker.
It’s pretty rock-n-roll and it sounds cool. I’m a bigger fan of the
first combo with James finishing off, it just flows better. But
whatever you two want.” He finishes by rubbing his hands on his
pants. Like there’s dirt on them or something.

I check James and he’s crying again. Holding
our daughter closer to his chest. His head’s tucked down, nuzzling
the top of her head with his nose. Johnathan pats him on the
shoulder and Stacy hands him a Kleenex. Which he accepts and dabs
the corners of his eyes and nose.

“Eric Ryan Striker-James it is.” Deacon cuts
in. “And? Jenna what?”

“Jesus D, can you stop being so pushy?” I
snap in a grumbly whisper. “I just had two babies. After I was
woken up as my water broke and I was rushed into an emergency
C-section. Give me a damn break.”

He’s went from cute, normally annoying
Deacon, to I want to castrate him and wear his testicles as a
necklace, Deacon.

“Jenna Stacy Striker-James”

“I do hope you two realize if you name her
Jenna with the last name James they are going to think she sounds
like a porn star.” Deacon barks a laugh, which startles Eric. So I
give him the stink eye to shut his mouth and he zips his lip in an
instant.

Slowly we talk it out a little more and
finally we have decided Jenna Anne Striker-James. All the kids have
a mouthful of names, but, I think it’s sweet the men want to share
the last name spot with them and who am I to argue? Johnathan has
obviously turned over a new leaf and I couldn’t be happier about
that. That will make for a much easier life if he stays the course
and doesn’t go back to rude Johnathan. I can only hope. Fingers
crossed.

Chapter Five

~Johnathan~

“That went better than expected,” Cammy
states happily as we pull up the gravel to the garage. Davis just
tailed us home, then left. It was horrible trying to get out of the
hospital parking lot without hitting a news crew or paparazzi.
Apparently the word has flown the coup that fast, about my babies
being born. Being a rocker has its perks but the media that comes
along with stardom is definitely not one of the bonuses.

Dylan’s in the back of the car, slumped over,
sound asleep. He should be tuckered out after the long day we’ve
had. We spent the entire day at the hospital with my newborns,
Jenna and Eric. I really do love those names. And now it’s nearly
eleven. Dylan, after he woke up at the hospital, was ecstatic to
see the twins. Emily was notably exhausted but she still gave him
her 110%. She had him sit next to her as he took turns cradling
each baby in his arms. They talked about cartoons as Emily pulled
her breast from her hospital gown and fed each of the twins
separately. I had to leave the room as soon as she started. My cock
was hard with her just mentioning the need to feed our babies. Then
when she pulled her breast out— like it was no big deal, I had to
conceal my giant erection and go down to grab myself a little jug
of chocolate milk from the cafeteria on the first floor. Nobody
else seemed to care. Even Deacon kept his composure. Sly,
self-controlled bastard.

I don’t know what’s up with him but he’s like
a totally different man when it comes to Emily. Other women he
treats like trash and sex objects. Then you’ve got her and he
worships the ground she walks on. Sticks up for her, brings her
flowers every time he visits. I never thought I’d see the day he
was half a gentleman to any woman. Especially one who would never
consider spreading their pussy lips for him to taint with his
dick.

“Yeah, it went well,” I comment back to
Cammy, climbing out of the driver seat and digging into the back to
carry Dylan to bed.

Unlatching his seatbelt, I toss his tiny
noodle arms over my shoulders and pull him into my embrace. He’s as
droopy, as a rag doll.

“So you’re seriously okay with naming the
babies with two last names?” Cammy inquires lightly as we make our
way into her little house. The property here has four buildings.
Two small houses, one for Cammy and the other for Stacy and Kyle.
We have the main house and then a large garage that I’ve had
converted into a music recording studio and small loft apartment
for the boys to crash in if they get too drunk when we rock
out.

“Yes, I’m fine with it,” I half tell the
truth. I can’t very well tell her or Emily why I agreed to the
names that Cammy and I’ve discussed before. Because when Cammy
suggested it to begin with, I was 100% against the ridiculous
notion. Now… On the other hand. Not so much. And I’m about to tell
you why. As soon as I put her to bed. Alone. I’ve got some serious
plans to construct.

I tuck Dylan into his small twin sized bed
with Spongebob covers and he doesn’t even stir. He’s fast asleep.
Cammy kisses his forehead after I finish and grabs my hand, folding
her fingers into mine and pulls me in tow out onto the attached
brick patio.

“I’m proud of you,” she smiles sweetly,
flipping her blonde hair elegantly out of her face as she leans up,
pressing a soft supple kiss to my cheek. She’s really great. No
wonder I love her…too. It’s not easy being in love with two women.
It’s probably the most difficult thing I’ve ever felt. It’s a
constant push and pull. A forever back and forth of bountiful
fucking emotions. And I don’t do emotions well.

“There’s nothing to be proud of,” I state,
taking a step back. If she gets much closer this semi is going to
turn into a full hard-on and I’m not going to be able to go to bed
with a clear conscious or clear head. Who the hell am I kidding? I
live with the dirtiest most tainted conscious known to mankind. I’m
a fuck up. I don’t know why I’m trying to be Mr. Goody now.
Awe…What the hell…

I grab the back of Cammy’s neck and she
squeals.

That’s right baby. This is about to
happen.

“Get on the fucking ground.” Gripping the
back of her neck, I press her down onto all fours and she listens,
without so much as a fight.

“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue,”
I order and unzip my fly, tugging her hair with my opposing hand. I
reach into my boxers and whip out my big anaconda sized dick. I
smack it on her extended tongue over and over and the loud slaps
echo in the courtyard. I just hope Stacy doesn’t see this or he’s
gonna get one hell of a show.

“Suck it, now,” I bark, twisting her long
hair into my fist and shoving my meat down her throat in one hard
jab.

Ah… That’s right… This bitch is going to suck
me good.

Her eyes flood with water, taking me all the
way down into the throat. She violently gags, turning her face red
and I pull out slightly and fuck her mouth again. Her throat
spasming around my thickness.

“I’m going to fuck your mouth so hard baby,”
I growl, jackhammering into her hole. Her eyes pouring with watery
tears as each gag erupts into the back of her throat.

“Do you want me to come in your mouth, bitch?
Or do you want me to come in your pussy?” I snarl, getting into it.
My thigh muscles flexing as I put all of my anger and pain into
each thrust. Fuck you Emily! Fuck you for wanting James!

Cammy groans deep in her throat and nods.
“Answer me. Do you like me fucking your mouth?” She nods again,
over and over and a moan climbs out of her throat, as I pull out
just enough to give her air.

“Do you want to play with yourself? Or do you
want me to do it?” I twist her hair harder and she whimpers
slightly. Withdrawing myself from her silken mouth, I smack the
side of her face with my dick and she moans so loudly I’m sure the
neighbors can hear us.

“Quiet, Dylan is asleep, you kinky kinky
bitch.” I smack her cheek again with my saliva soaked cock. Leaving
a dark red imprint in its wake.

“I’m your kinky bitch. Fuck my pussy… Fuck it
all… Make me come for you,” she whispers with a shaky breath.
Cammy, Cammy, Cammy, my kinky sex crazed whore.

“Stand up and push yourself against the
house, spread your legs and be ready. I’m going to rip your pussy
apart,” I taunt her and she obeys. On wobbly legs, she presses her
breasts against the house and spreads her long sexy limbs.

I know this makes her hotter. So the ruder
and more abusive I am, the more she wants it. I’ve never met a
woman who loves to be controlled or put through pain more than she
does. She craves it. The more I redden her skin, the more she begs
for it. I’ve always been a man to love control. Except with Emily.
With her I’ve always wanted to be gentle and caress her. I have no
idea why. But with every other woman, Cammy included, I’ve required
the control. I’ve needed to be mean and talk dirty. To degrade
them. It feels so fucking right. Like a part of me that’s
constantly begging to come out and play.

“You ready, my bitch?” I roar, and drop my
bottoms to the ground, leaving only my shirt on. My primal
instincts taking hold.

“Yes...” she purrs, her hips dry humping the
air.

“Pull up your dress and slide your thong to
the side.” I order, standing but a few feet from her. The salty
breeze flaring goose bumps over my tattooed skin, as it wafts her
fragrant aroma into the air, teasing my insatiable hunger.

She does as she’s told and I reach out for
her, sliding my hand along her hipbone and grip it firmly with my
big hand. It looks huge against her thin body. With my other, I
pull it back and CRACK. I slap her bare ass with all of my strength
and she instantly shutters and moans in pure unadulterated ecstasy,
dropping her head against the wall. Breaking into an all-consuming
orgasm. I steady her so she doesn’t fall as her body convulses and
her back bows outward, air shooting in and out of her lungs in
quick noisy spurts. Her ass is glowing fire engine red.

Wrapping my arms around her waist, lifting
her slightly and bending my knees so her ass is nestled perfectly
against my thickness. I rub it up and down her dripping pussy,
pulling it up her butt and back down again. The silken friction
making me need to come inside her tight hole even more urgent.

“Are you ready?” I slow myself, angling my
dick at her entrance.

She nods and presses back against me. Willing
me inside her.

I slip into her hole and it fits me
perfectly. Taking all of me in one quick thrust.

Picking up speed, thrusting into her
blow-for-blow, my balls slapping her clit in firm powerful strikes.
Making her writhe against me as each hit brings her closer and
closer to another orgasm. I can feel the tension in her body
building. I have gotten to know her body’s telltale signs for
months now.

“You ready… my bitch?” I bend back slightly
and administer another mild blow to her other ass cheek. Her pussy
walls contract and I know I’m going to blow my top and she’s going
to go with me. I’m on the brink. Damn, her pussy is like velvet
heaven.

Sucking my thumb into my mouth, I moisten it
up and glide it between her cheeks, resting it on top of her tight
little rosette. All perky and waiting for me to fuck it with my
thumb. If my cock wasn’t all ready to blow, I’d be pounding it in
there right now.

“Fuck Cammy, you feel so good,” I growl,
pressing my thick digit into her eager pucker. I curve it inside of
her and press the fleshy softness of her beautiful entrance. This
is total sensory overload for me. I can’t take this anymore. My
cock jerks. Oh no you son of a bitch. Not now. I need to fuck her a
bit more. I tighten my six pack and stare away from her beautifully
reddened ass, over to the tall green bushes to bring myself back
from the intense climatic edge.

“More… I need more…” she presses back,
squeezing her asshole around my finger and her pussy around my
cock. Fuck, that’s it, I can’t take it anymore. Digging my fingers
into her hips with my only free hand, I jackhammer into her. The
slapping of my balls and cock pressing relentlessly into her soaked
pussy sings in the air, filled with our panting and …. Oh
fuck….