Chapter 8

Dane Carver stirred in the tangled sheets of the master bedroom, his six-foot-three frame sprawled across the king-sized bed, a sheen of sweat still clinging to his chiseled muscles. The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting soft stripes across the two women sleeping beside him. Lacey, his thirty-two-year-old mother, lay curled on her side, her platinum hair a wild halo around her heart-shaped face. Her full lips parted slightly, a faint moan escaping as she dreamed, her curvaceous body barely covered by the sheet draped over her ample breasts and rounded hips. Her skin glowed with a post-fuck flush, red welts still visible on her ass from the brutal spankings he’d delivered.

Gina Bennett, thirty-six, sprawled on her back, her jet-black hair fanned across the pillow, her surgically enhanced D-cups rising and falling with each shallow breath. Her olive skin glistened, smeared mascara framing her almond-shaped eyes, a faint bruise on her neck from where Dane had choked her into submission. Both women looked wrecked, their bodies marked by his relentless dominance, their faces serene in exhaustion.

Dane’s green eyes glinted with predatory satisfaction as he propped himself on an elbow, his eleven-inch cock twitching at the sight of them. His mind replayed the previous night’s marathon, a roid-fueled, Viagra-charged frenzy that had lasted hours. He’d started with Gina, pinning her to the bed, her feminist protests dissolving into moans as he fucked her sopping pussy missionary-style, her legs spread wide, her fake tits bouncing with each savage thrust. She’d screamed through countless orgasms, her body shaking as he flooded her cunt with cum.

Lacey had watched, fingering herself, until Dane turned to her, bending her over the dresser and railing her doggy-style, her platinum hair gripped in his fist as he spanked her ass raw. He’d cum inside her, then made them sixty-nine, Gina’s tongue lapping his load from Lacey’s pussy while he fucked Gina’s throat, her gags music to his ears. They’d switched again, Dane fucking Lacey reverse cowgirl, her tits bouncing as Gina sucked her clit, both women cumming hard as he sprayed their faces.

And so on through countless combinations, thanks to the Viagra tabs Dane had taken, left behind by Lacey’s previous boyfriend. The sluts’ filthy moans, the way they’d licked his cum off each other, had cemented his control. He’d lost count of their climaxes, but his own had been relentless, his cock never softening, a testament to the juice and pills pumping through him.

A burst of energy surged through him, his muscles itching for action. Dane slid from the bed, and tugged on his discarded athletic shorts, the fabric tight against his bulging quads. He padded down the hall, his bare feet silent on the carpet, and descended to the basement gym, its walls lined with mirrors and heavy free weights. The air smelled of iron and sweat, a shrine to his power.

He opened a locked box in the corner, pulling out his secret stash of steroids—vials of clear liquid and a syringe. His fingers worked with practiced ease, drawing up a dose, then, on a whim, he increased it, adding an extra half-milliliter. The guys at the gym had warned him about pushing it—mood swings, liver damage, heart risks—but Dane smirked, jabbing the needle into his glute. Warnings were for pussies who couldn’t handle the juice, not studs like him who could fuck his own smokeshow of a mother and her gorgeous best friend into oblivion in one night. The burn of the injection fueled his high, his veins popping as he flexed.

Dane racked a barbell with four hundred pounds, the plates clanking as he positioned himself under it. He gripped the bar, his knuckles whitening, and began squatting, the weight grinding against his shoulders. Each rep sent fire through his quads, but his mind drifted to last night’s conquests.

He’d loved breaking Gina’s feminist bullshit, that smug independence crumbling as he choked her, her eyes rolling back as she begged for his cock. “You’re just a horny slut,” he’d growled, and her fourteen orgasms proved him right, her screams echoing as he fucked her into submission. Lacey had been even better, her ditzy devotion complete as she called him Big Daddy, her pussy clenching around him while he spanked her, her five climaxes shaking her curvy frame. The memory of their cum-slick faces, kissing over his cock, drove him to pump harder, the barbell trembling as he powered through ten reps, sweat dripping down his sculpted chest.

He switched to deadlifts, piling on more plates, the weight testing his grip. His thoughts lingered on Gina’s shock when she realized he was fucking Lacey, her feminist facade shattered by the taboo truth. He’d savored her humiliation, the way she’d swallowed his load despite her protests, her body betraying her with every shuddering climax.

Lacey’s submission was sweeter, her willingness to take his slaps and degrading names—”fuckhole,” “cumdump”—proof she was his. Dane grunted, pulling the bar up, his biceps bulging, his cock hardening in his shorts as he pictured them waking up, ready for another round. He wasn’t done with them yet. Not by a long shot.

Dane Carver trudged upstairs, his muscles screaming from the brutal hour in the basement gym, sweat slicking his chiseled six-foot-three frame. His athletic shorts clung to his thick quads, his eleven-inch cock half-hard from the steroid rush and the vivid memory of last night’s depravity. His veins pulsed with the extra dose of roids he’d injected, the burn still fresh in his glute. As he neared the kitchen, the low hum of voices stopped him cold—Lacey and Gina, their words dripping with awe, their giggles laced with raw lust, the clatter of pans punctuating their chatter.

“Jesus, Lacey, his cock,” Gina’s husky voice carried, thick with disbelief. “I’ve never seen anything like it. That size—it’s fucking unreal, like something out of a porn flick. And his stamina? Charles is done in five minutes, panting like a dog. It’s like Danes a goddamn machine. I lost count of how many times I came last night. My pussy’s still throbbing.”

Lacey’s laugh was soft, sultry, tinged with a ditzy pride. “Oh, girl, you’re preaching to the choir. His size is unreal, like it shouldn’t even be possible. And that stamina? It’s like he’s not human, just kept going and going, fucking us into oblivion. I’m still feeling him, every thrust, every load—God, it’s like he owns me, body and soul.”

Dane’s lips curled into a predatory smirk, his ego swelling as he leaned against the doorway, taking in the scene. Lacey, thirty-two, stood by the stove in a silky red bathrobe, her platinum hair a tousled halo around her heart-shaped face, her full lips parted in a dreamy smile. The robe barely contained her ample breasts, the fabric slipping to reveal the curve of her rounded hips, faint red welts from his spankings still marking her creamy skin. Her doe-like blue eyes sparkled with a mix of warmth and vacancy, her curvaceous body swaying as she stirred eggs.

Gina, thirty-six, leaned against the counter in her white halter dress from last night, the plunging neckline showcasing her surgically enhanced D-cups, her jet-black hair cascading in glossy waves over her olive skin. A faint bruise on her neck, a souvenir from his chokehold, added to her wrecked allure, her almond-shaped eyes glinting with mischief as she flipped bacon. Both women were a vision of fucked-out beauty, their bodies marked by his relentless dominance.

Dane stepped into the kitchen, his presence commanding their attention. Lacey lit up, her tits bouncing under the robe as she squealed, “Big Daddy!” She rushed over, throwing her arms around his neck, her lips brushing his jaw with a needy, lingering kiss, her body pressing against his sweat-slicked chest.

Gina raised an eyebrow at the nickname, her full lips twitching in amusement, but she shrugged and sauntered over, her hips swaying, the dress clinging to her hourglass figure. “Morning, Big Daddy, ” she purred, her voice dripping with sly seduction as she leaned in, her tongue teasing his in a slow, hungry kiss that left a faint taste of her cherry lip gloss.

Dane seized the moment, his hands roaming with possessive greed. He groped Lacey’s ass through the robe, his fingers digging into her soft, yielding flesh, feeling the heat of her skin through the thin silk. Then he slid a hand up Gina’s dress, squeezing her firm, olive-skinned thigh, his thumb brushing the edge of her bare pussy—she’d ditched her thong last night. They giggled, their gazes dripping with lust, their bodies responding to his touch.

“Fuck, babygirl,” he growled at Lacey, his eyes raking her curves, “this robe’s begging to be torn off, showing off those perfect tits.” He turned to Gina, his gaze lingering on her plunging neckline. “And that dress? It’s screaming for my cock to rip it apart.” Lacey adjusted her robe, flashing more cleavage, her nipples hardening under his stare, while Gina arched her back, thrusting her fake tits forward, both women preening, their poses deliberate and provocative.

“Look at you, Dane,” Lacey cooed, her fingers tracing his sweat-slicked biceps, the veins popping from his workout. “Your muscles are fucking insane—so big, so strong, like you could break me in half and I’d love it.”

“Yeah,” Gina added, her hand grazing his pecs, lingering on the hard ridges of his chest, her nails scraping lightly. “You’re built like a goddamn tank. No wonder you fucked us stupid last night, had us screaming for hours.”

Dane grinned, settling at the dining table with a steaming mug of black coffee, its bitter heat grounding him as his eyes devoured them. The kitchen smelled of sizzling bacon, melted butter, and sweet syrup, the counter cluttered with eggshells, a mixing bowl, and a bottle of maple syrup. Lacey flipped golden pancakes, her robe slipping to reveal a pert nipple, her hips swaying to an unheard beat. Gina crisped bacon, her dress riding up to expose her toned legs, her movements confident despite the soreness she’d admitted. They worked in sync, plating a feast—crispy bacon strips, fluffy scrambled eggs flecked with chives and melted cheddar, golden pancakes stacked high with maple syrup dripping down the sides, and a bowl of fresh strawberries, their red flesh glistening.

They served Dane first, setting a heaping plate before him, their hands brushing his shoulders as they sat on either side, their fingers lingering on his arms and thighs. Lacey’s touch was soft, stroking his forearm, her robe gaping to show more of her lush cleavage. Gina’s nails grazed his knee, her dress hiking higher, revealing the curve of her inner thigh. They posed for him, Lacey pouting her full lips, tossing her platinum hair, Gina stretching languidly, her tits straining against the fabric, both basking in the way he eye-fucked their curves.

“You two look so fucking hot this morning,” Dane said, his voice a low growl, watching Lacey’s tits jiggle as she giggled and Gina’s sly smirk as she leaned forward, her cleavage a magnet for his gaze. “Like you’re ready for another round right now, begging for my cock.”

Lacey blushed, her robe slipping further, her nipple fully exposed now, while Gina tossed her hair, her eyes daring him to make good on the promise. They ate, the meal a symphony of flavors—salty bacon crunching between his teeth, sweet syrup coating the fluffy pancakes, creamy eggs bursting with cheese, the strawberries tart and juicy, bursting on his tongue.

Dane savored their affection, their giggles and touches stoking his arousal. Lacey leaned close, her breath warm on his neck, her fingers tracing circles on his arm, while Gina’s hand slid up his thigh, stopping just short of his hardening cock, her nails teasing the edge of his shorts. The air crackled with tension, their bodies a constant tease, their eyes locked on him, hungry and adoring.

When Lacey excused herself to the restroom, her robe swishing as she swayed out, Gina leaned in, her almond-shaped eyes glinting with mischief. “You know, Dane, I’ve never cum during sex unless I’m on top. Charles can’t even...” She paused, blushing, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “His dick’s too short to fuck me doggy-style. Can’t even get inside me from that angle.”

Dane laughed, the sound sharp and mocking, his green eyes glinting with cruel amusement. “Fucking pathetic. Never been with a real man before, huh? No wonder you were screaming for my cock last night, begging for it like a desperate slut.”

Gina’s cheeks flushed, her lips parting in a mix of shame and defiance, her eyes darting away just as Lacey returned, her robe swishing, her smile oblivious to the tension. They finished eating, the plates nearly empty, the air thick with unspoken desire. Gina glanced at her watch, standing abruptly, her heels clicking on the tile. “I should go. Charles and I have church soon, and he’s already texting me.”

Dane’s eyes narrowed, his cock throbbing from the gym’s rush, the steroids, and her confession about Charles. “You’re not leaving ‘til I fuck you again,” he growled, rising from his chair, his muscular frame towering over her, his shadow falling across the table.

Gina shook her head, stepping toward the door, her dress swaying. “Dane, I don’t have time. Charles is waiting, and I need time to get home and change before we leave.”

“Bullshit,” he snapped, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. “I’m worked up from pumping iron, and this hard-on’s going in you.” He grabbed her arm as she tried to slip past, his roid-fueled strength overwhelming her struggles. He wrestled her to the dining table, plates clattering as he bent her over, her fake tits pressing into the wood, her dress riding up to expose her bare ass—her thong long gone from last night. Lacey’s eyes burned with excitement, her breath hitching as she leaned against the counter, her robe slipping open, her fingers brushing her own thigh as she watched.

Gina squirmed, snarling, “No, Dane, stop it! I said no!” But her pussy glistened, slick and ready, betraying her words. Dane yanked his shorts down, his massive cock springing free, thick and veined, and shoved it balls-deep into her wet heat in one brutal thrust. She gasped, her body jerking, her hands clawing at the table, her nails scraping the wood.

“Why so fucking wet if you don’t want it, slut?” he taunted, gripping her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh as he pounded into her with savage force.

“Fuck you,” Gina snarled at him, her voice a mix of anger and moans, her body trembling as her resistance crumbled, her pussy clenching around his shaft, her hips involuntarily pushing back to meet his thrusts. Her moans grew louder, her curses melting into whimpers, her body betraying her with every shuddering thrust.

Dane’s hips slammed into Gina’s upturned ass, his eleven-inch cock driving balls-deep into her dripping pussy with relentless force, the dining table shuddering under the impact. Her white halter dress bunched around her waist, her fake D-cups pressed into the wood, her olive skin flushed as she gripped the table’s edge.