Fotos De Mikecrack Novels & Stories

Their voices fade as I walk up the stairs and down the hallway to my Mom’s room. I place two knocks on her door and wait for her approval before I turn the knob and walk inside the room. She’s sitting on the bed, smiling at the frame she’s holding and when I shut the door, walking further into the room, I get a better view and it’s a picture of our family. Her, Dad, me, and Kaleb. "Do you remember when we took this picture?" She blurts out without raising her head and I slip my hands into my pockets. "Yeah. First and last boating cruise we went on."

Mike tried to do his homework. He really did. But the urge to scroll through his social media was too strong. He smiled at the pictures of Bernie in mittens photoshopped in increasingly unlikely places and groaned at all the snow-day pictures. "Yeah, it's snowing, get over it," he muttered to himself. As he scrolled further, he saw one of his friends had commented on a picture of the new kid. 'Who is that guy?' Mike thought, leaning toward the screen and squinting at the white-haired boy.

I shake my head, “No, Mike wouldn’t kill anyone. He’s not as wicked as that, there must be a mistake somewhere. He….” “You don’t believe me? You think I am lying? Well, let me break it to you. Your sweet Mikeey has his brother-in-law chained in his torture room” “Jayden stop, Mike…” “Do you want me to tell you how he is torturing him?” Just then his phone beep. He reaches for it and check something in the screen, then he grins widely. He turn the phone to me. “Here take a look at this” I look at the phone and see a picture of a man dangling upside down, his body full of bruises and blood, his face disfigured and unrecognizable. I almost gag at the picture.

I wondered what this was all about. Sylvester and I sat on a couch while Devin poured himself a drink. Leo seemed a bit annoyed, and I figured something had gone wrong. "So?" Theodore asked, wanting them to get to the point; Max took out the contents of the envelope, and they were pictures. I wondered whose pictures. He passed them around, and we all studied each picture before passing it to the next person. We moved the pictures in a circle. It was a distant photograph of Mike, Margret, and Sophia. The three of them were in chains being loaded on a boat.

And more specifically, asking about Cracker and Grace… Over the past week, men on black unmarked motorcycles had been spotted around the club and at my house. Driving up and down the road that led to Cracker’s and Steel’s place. We’d been trying to find out what MC, but they were smart and covered up their logo. Which really wasn’t good news.

Mike hit record on his phone and the red light blinked on. I was still sprawled on my back in my old pink bed, legs wide open, and cum already pouring out of my pussy and ass in thick white soaky globs. My tits were covered in it too. I looked like a used-up whore, and the four of them were staring down at me like they’d just won the lottery. “Say it, princess,” Mike ordered, camera pointed straight at my leaking cunt. “Thank your uncles for ruining you.”

Crystal catcalled. I rolled my eyes and took a seat at my desk, my back to her. "What?" Crystal shouted at my back. "You haven't been on TMZ today?" I felt a cold dread wash over me. There was no way. "F*ck you, Crystal," I said, shooting her the bird. When I was sure she was busy, though, I did get online. Sure enough, there were pictures of Michael and me plastered all over every gossip rag in the city. "Michael Hightower Seen Out with Latina Lover."

Attached was a blurry image. Me. In the hotel room. Shirtless. With Micah.

I crept closer and pushed the door open just enough to see inside. Michael was standing there with his back to me, jeans pushed down to his thighs. His hand was pumping up and down on a thick, veiny cock. Fuck, it was bigger than I imagined. Eight inches at least, heavy balls swinging as he stroked. He was jerking off fast, desperate. On his phone screen was a picture of me. A nude. Taken when I was in the shower last week. I didn’t even know anyone had snapped that photo. Water was running down my tits, my nipples hard, one hand between my legs.

Crysta makes a small, choked sound. And I can’t fucking breathe.