All Characters Portrayed on this site are 18 Years of Age or Older
Chapter 1 | Magnolia Cove
She had summoned him once again...
The late-afternoon light poured through delicate lace curtains, draping everything in a honey-gold haze. And there, at the center of that light, on the old four-poster bed with the carved magnolia blossoms curling up its posts, lay Annabelle Bullcock.
Slade Pickens stood in the wide doorway of the master bedroom of the sheriff’s stately home — a house far too grand for a man on a small-town salary, perched on the hill like it knew secrets no one else did.
“Hello, Annabelle.” Slade said dryly. Annabelle used to be like a delicious forbidden fruit to Slade, but that mystique had faded long ago. Now he was just beholden to her, and she derived a sort of evil pleasure at having him do her bidding.
“Where’s your husband?” Slade asked.
“Don’t know, don’t care.” She said indifferently. “Probably with that slut neighbor of yours. Bet he’s got Marley bent over his desk with his dick in her ass right now.”
Her satin camisole glimmered as she shifted, her large silky white breasts spilling out of the satin lace. Her white braid spilled like silk over the blue quilt. One hand rested behind her head; the other lifted slowly, one long, elegant finger beckoning him closer. She shot him an unblinking cold gaze that pierced right through him with her ice blue eyes and then slowly opened her legs.
Slade felt himself begin to get hard. Partly because Annabelle was gorgeous, nude, and revealing herself to him, and partly at the thought of sliding his dick into Marley’s rock hard ass. Something about Marley’s gothic persona made Slade’s cock hard but so far there had never been an opportunity for her to spread her legs for him.
This wasn’t the first time he’d been summoned to this room. And he knew, it wouldn’t be the last… not until he found a way to break free from the tether Annabelle had looped around his balls.
Almost two years now. Two years since she’d caught him slipping through her kitchen window. She should’ve screamed. Should’ve called for her husband — the great Chief Bullcock.
But instead… she’d smiled, unbuckled his pants and let him fuck her on the cold marble of the kitchen island while her husband the sheriff was sleeping upstairs.
She’d made him an offer he hadn’t had the strength or the sense to refuse and he’d been paying for that mistake ever since.
Since then Annabelle had Slade doing odd jobs and “errands down at the dock” all under the guise of a hired hand while really just ensuring he would visit her bedchamber a couple of times a week.
Slade knew the routine, he stepped inside the room, undressed and walked over to the bed. His muscular frame towering over her as he looked down on her naked body.
Annabelle bit her lip and swayed the palm of her hands against the inside of her thighs. His eyes flicked over the furnishings — the velvet curtains, the antique dresser, the sterling-silver picture frames lined up like trophies. Too fine. Too polished. Too expensive for a sheriff’s wife.
He’d asked her once how they afforded all this.
Annabelle had given a soft laugh, airy and dismissive.
“Oh, sugar, this is all my daddy’s money,” she’d said, flipping her braid over her shoulder.
But Slade had grown up in Magnolia Cove. He knew the difference between old money and someone who’d scraped their way up from dirt roads and mill dust. Annabelle had the shine of a woman who’d learned early that sex could be currency — and she’d spent it well.
Slade always assumed he wasn’t the only one Annabelle had her claws sunk into. And now there was something “off” down at the docks.
There were more lurking eyes than usual when he went down to pick up that weekly brown paper package, and he felt a strange tension in his “meetings” with the harbor master.
The Chief was suddenly taking an interest down at the docks, and Slade was pretty sure it was Annabelle’s idea.
Annabelle was getting desperate. She loved the power and all of that power went away if her husband was no longer sheriff. But Chief Bullcock was down in the polling and he needed a big bust to ensure his re-election.
Slade needed to find some leverage if he were ever to be out from under the thumb of Sheriff Bullcock and his duplicitous wife.
Still… even after searching the house half a dozen times, he’d never found any cash stashed away. No envelopes behind picture frames, no shoebox under the bed, not even a safe tucked behind a painting.
Nothing.
This was Slade’s chance if he was ever gonna cut himself loose. He only had three months before the election — the one chance he had to change everything.
Which meant it was time for plan B. For that, he’d need help — pretty girls, smart, but naive enough to do whatever he asked them to.
And now they had just appeared out of the blue, and… they were sleeping under his own roof. First Scarlett, and then yesterday, the new one with the sexy dark eyes, Natalie. It would take a little time but they would eventually fall under his control, just like Scarlett’s sister Becky and all the women he had enchanted before her.
But that plan would have to wait. Because Annabelle was watching him now — waiting like a cat lounging on the bed, pretending to be bored and harmless when she was anything but.
Her finger curled again, summoning him.
“Come here, Slade,” she murmured, voice smooth as river silt. “I have somethin’ that needs a little tendin’ to today.”
Slade squared his shoulders, reached behind her back and pulled her to the side of the bed.
Just a bit longer, he thought, as she wrapped her legs around his thighs and thrust his cock deep inside her.
It began with a slow penetration—sharp, deliberate, and hard.
Annabelle relished the pleasure of a man splitting her open, the soft pulsating of his throbbing manhood, the warmth of his member entering her. And… she liked being in control.
The first strike came like thunder through her tiny body. Her torso shuddered; passion welled hot where the thrust had fallen. Slade circled his hips above her grunting with effort, his rhythm steady and merciless. Each thrust carried the scent of sweat and her own sweet female aroma, and with each drive, her heart pounded.
She felt his thrusts deepen. The four poster bed shuddered beneath her. Her smooth creamy thighs seemed to tighten slightly in anticipation of every powerful thrust. She wanted to cry out, but the words became nothing but unintelligible moans and screams.
His penetrating thrusts echoed like thunderclaps. Annabelle’s core gave way with a long, aching moan. For one breathless instant, she was weightless—her passion mounting, building, swelling with the longing that had been growing in her for days. Then came the explosion.
Air rushed from her lungs, hot and wild. She erupted, twisting and tormented like a hurricane thrashing above the waves. And suddenly he released his seed, with one long last powerful thrust as if the world were exploding inside her.
Silence followed—thick, solemn, almost kind.
Slade wiped his brow, and unentangled his manhood, their combined fluids draining from her gaping slash.
And though her body lay still, she could still feel her trembling legs and the cold wetness of his cum dripping down the crack of her ass.
He dressed and walked out without even looking back at her exhausted body, sprawled out on the bed.
Slade always enjoyed himself with Annabelle, still it was time for this relationship to end. He had a plan and now he just needed to persuade the girls into helping him.
