Tasting Candy: Over 60 Erotic Pregnancy Stories

Though the decision was made for me when the three guys came out the door, looked around and shortly thereafter found us.

“No time,” Truck said, grabbing me again and pulling me onto the bike before he sped off. The three men running towards us, away from the crowd of smokers milling about the doorway.

As we started to head on by though, Truck kicked out his leg, knocking over one motorcycle, and then that toppled into another and both fell. The shouts of curses from the three men indicated it was theirs.

I couldn’t stop thinking what I’d gotten myself into, and I squirmed a little under the pressure as my arms wrapped around Truck’s waist. He was huge, and hard, and scary.

And I was ridin’ off to who-knows-where with him.

I was sat side-saddle style, arms about his hard torso as we drove on through the city streets. The thrum of the motorcycle beneath me so very loud. Then something occurred to me…

“Why’d you toss your helmet away? And… why’d they only have two motorcycles if there was three of them?” Though even as I asked the question, the answer became apparent.

Truck laughed and revved the engine, cruising on down the streets faster. The lit up roads a mystery to me, in a city I was only just barely getting acquainted with.

“If he wanted to keep his bike he shouldn’t have called you a bitch,” he said with a grin, as the rumble of the engine reverberated up through me.

“This is stolen?” I said even though I knew the answer and didn’t really want to hear it out loud. But it just came out of my lips without permission.

I wanted to leap off, but my legs were totally exposed and we were going really fast. I’d hurt myself somethin’ awful if I jumped. I made my choice and had to live with it.

“It was probably stolen before I even took it, Ember, don’t fret over it,” he remarked so nonchalantly, tearing on down the road, taking these smooth, practiced turns. It might not have been his motorcycle, but he knew how to drive it, that was for certain.

Then I noticed we were heading into a darker neighbourhood, residential, where the street lights were broken as often as not.

“I don’t know this place,” I said, worry edging into my voice. What if he took me captive and killed me!

My parents warned me that would happen if I left for the big city, and I was shiverin’, not just from the cold but also ‘cause of the thought of him doin’ somethin’ horrible.

“Don’t worry your pretty lil’ head, Ember,” he said to me as we approached this one house, with a motorcycle out front, a few people loafing about, drinking and smoking. It looked like a place people in TV shows went to buy drugs.

And it was where he pulled us up to.

“This is my pad,” he declared so casually, as if that was supposed to be reassuring. Though with him coming to a stop and lifting his leg up off the bike, he pulled me from my seat and grinned down at me.

I knew I was far from my own apartment, and maybe it was the two drinks, but I gave him a small, cautious smile. I had enough money to get a cab, if I needed it, I reasoned. So maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to just have another drink with him...

He reached a hand up and slid it along my neck to my chin, before some guy came rushin’ up.

“Hey Truck,” he said, clearly younger than the big man.

“Ditch the bike, Tommy. I’m takin’ my new girl up into the house,” he declared, having put a claim to me as easy as that, it seemed. He took my hand and led me on up the walkway, over the stairs as Tommy rode off as instructed.

The sound of blaring music lifted out of the house, as if another party awaited me. And judging by the bodies that milled about outside, smoking and drinking, I could imagine there were only more inside.

“Hey Truck,” said one of the scandalously clad, bombshells outside his door. “Who’s the goth?”

“Shut up,” he said to her so flippantly. “She’s my gal,” there it was again as he led me into the house, a party definitely going on, though it wasn’t as packed as the club was. It more seemed like a group of friends and lovers hanging out… making themselves quite at home.

I didn’t really like bein’ claimed like I’m his pet or somethin’ like that, but at the same time... I did. Or, my body did. It made my heart thump and my stomach flip with excitement or somethin’. Maybe it wasn’t so bad. I’d never been to a house party before, and I had to avert my eyes from the people makin’ out and grindin’ on the co

uch, but it felt like it was bad.

And didn’t I want to be a little bad?

The large living room had a bar of its own, and Truck took me over to it, giving a grunt or a nod to some of the people as they greeted him, but staying focussed. He took up a large bottle of vodka, like the stuff he’d ordered me at the club, and poured us both up a glass, this time without the cranberry juice for me.

“To livin’ fast, and fun times, huh?” he said in a toast to me, grinning as we clinked glasses before he downed his and poured another up quickly thereafter.