Romans & histoires Tommyinnit X

Big sister has a very bad date. NB: This story contains mature themes of erotic sex, incest/taboo sex and of an adult, explicit, SEXUAL nature. Enjoy. >>>> Tommy was relaxing at home when there was a call. Since it was almost Midnight he mutters, "Who the fuck would call me Now, even on a Saturday night." He answered, "Hello." A female voice asked me, "Is this Thomas Redd?" "Yes. Who's calling please?" 'God I hope it's not a fucking telemarketer.' Tommy thinks.

She thought about the pleasure of assaulting him but had to return to the duty at hand. “What is your name?” the high guard questioned Tommy. “Dennis of the West,” he said. Wenally did not know the name. It was foreign to her. Tommy was grateful he had taken on the West name. “How did you defeat these ferals?” the high guard investigated with her irritated, impatient tone. “My lady,” Tommy loathed, fabricating respect as he said, “most of our kin were killed in the battle. We have a few survivors staying at an inn in the town.” The most persuading lie was the most authentic one.

He adds with a playful wiggle of his eyebrows. I give him a pointed look as this is an argument I suspect will continue having until the baby is born. “And I told you baby girls are dominant in my grandmother's line, beautiful ones too” I finish with a playful flip of my hair. “Now where are you going?” Tommy arranges the right sleeve of his leather jacket, tugging a little on the silver Zip sewn at the side “I have to meet Diego and Gio in the city for an errand… and no, you can’t come” he adds quickly when I start to smile.

“I don’t eat little girls.” I stay quiet, unwilling to engage in his teasing. “My name is not Shorty. It’s Maya. And I’m not that short, Your Highness,” I blurt out, surprising even myself. He raises an eyebrow but ignores my words. “So, Shorty, what kind of romantic gifts do girls like?” Romantic gifts?! Panic surges through me. I’ve never thought about romance, let alone gifts. “I—uh...” I stammer. “Didn’t you hear me?” he presses.

“Little Richie Franklin, goddamn. It’s been a while. How the hell are you, man?” “Well—” began Richard, extending his hand, but Tommy had already grabbed him up in a bear hug which quite possibly might’ve compressed a few ribs. “—all right, I guess.” He gasped for air, a laugh escaping him. When at last he was put down he shook his friend’s hand. “What’s new, Tom?” “Shit, not a whole lot. Nothing new ever happens here.” Richard noticed the cross necklace he wore, which appeared to be made of nails twisted together. “That’s pretty cool,” he said, tapping it with his fingertip, resisting the urge to flick Truitt’s nose when he glanced down.

he added. I bolted upright from the chair in utter shock. “Three years?!” I was enraged, as well as dumbfounded. How could something like this be going on in my Institute and I had no clue about it. “We were introduced to it,” Tommy said, his eyes filled with tears that were threatening to spill down his cheeks. “Who introduced you all to drugs?” I asked with fury. “Saint,” Tommy answered. I thought I was upset, but right now, my rage had gone over the wall.

He is so fucking hot and so fucking mine. Tommy is almost six feet tall and all muscles. Not overly large, but definitely toned with a nice six pack. With one pull of his hand, he ripped his shirt off his chest then twirled it in the air. "Like this baby?" He teased me as he continued his Magic Mike performance with three cops also stripping next to him. "Hmm, needs some oil, baby." I threw a small penis shaped bottle at him and he chuckled. "Really?" His eyes were filled with amusement at the shape of it. Then his eyes caught mine and it seemed as if everyone in the room disappeared.

He looked to be around my age, probably a year or two older and I could see the subtle resemblance he shared with Alessio in the line of his jaw and wavy black hair. “Coraline, that’s Tommy, short for Tommaso.” Alessio introduced in a begrudging tone. “He’s one of my younger cousins living here because his parents kicked him out when he insisted on starting a rock band after graduating high school instead of heading off to the university.” Tommy’s dark eyes twinkled playfully. “Hi, Coraline. You can totally be the band’s manager when we make our debut next year.” “Oh.” I blinked. “Um, thanks for the offer.”