Wild Tides of Vengeance
Surf crashing against jagged rocks. Salt air thick in his nostrils. Ethan staggered along the crowded boardwalk, the sting of betrayal still fresh from that brutal seaside brunch. His almost-ex, Lena, had begged for mercy, her voice slicing through the hum of tourists like a rusty blade. But no dice. She’d spread her legs for Victor, her sleazy old flame, and now she wanted him back? Fat chance.
He replayed it all, the seagulls screeching overhead. Lena’s tears, her excuses about loneliness, Victor’s rough hands she’d craved again. Ethan’s own fuck-up echoed—stealing her from Victor years back, plunging into that married pussy like a fool. Sister Brooke’s warning rang: karma’s a savage bitch.
Chaos erupted. Screams tore the salty breeze. Bodies scattered. Gunfire popped like fireworks gone wrong. A burly stranger crumpled nearby, blood pooling on the weathered planks. Then Lena hit the deck behind him, crimson blooming across her silk blouse.
Ethan froze, dumbstruck, till pavement grit bit his back. A bullet had clipped him, hurling him like discarded trash. Arm limp, leg screaming, he dragged himself toward a rickety pier kiosk as glass shattered around him. World spun black. 🔥
Jump to Chapter 2 | Jump to Chapter 3 | Jump to Chapter 4
Chapter 2: Fractured Limbs, Burning Desires
Hospital fluorescents buzzed like angry hornets when Ethan cracked an eye. Pain jackhammered his shoulder and thigh. A stern nurse hovered, her perfume cloying—lavender masking bleach.
“You’re one tough bastard, Mr. Hale,” she muttered, jabbing a syringe. “Doc Harlan’s en route.”
Doc Harlan burst in, stethoscope swinging. “Two slugs, kid. Shoulder mangled muscle; thigh grazed the big vein. PT grind ahead, but you’ll walk. Thank the paramedic chick who clamped your leg.”
“Who the hell fired?” Ethan growled through gritted teeth.
“Cops outside. Your chat.”
Two detectives sauntered in—grizzled man, sharp-eyed woman. “Ethan Hale? Spill on Lena.”
He sighed, spilling the mess: affair with Victor’s wife, marriage, her return to that prick’s bed. Lunch plea for counseling. Denied.
“Victor’s your shooter,” she said flatly. “Sniped from a dune shack. Knew your spot. First hit mimicked you—killed Tyler Reese, beach vendor dad. Innocent. Lena caught a stray fleeing. Victor’s ghosting.”
Ethan’s gut twisted. Guilt gnawed like rats.
Morphine haze pulled him under. Dreams twisted wild—Lena’s moans under Victor, blood tides lapping his skin.
Brooke arrived next dawn, her curves hugged by yoga pants, concern etching her face. “No ‘I told you so,’ bro. Detectives dumped the dirt. Focus: heal.”
She wheeled him to his cliffside condo weeks later. In-home nurse was a sadist, twisting limbs till tears streamed. Brooke pitied him, her hands soothing his fevered brow. Nights blurred; painkillers loosened tongues. “Remember that wild summer?” she whispered one eve, massaging his good thigh. Her touch lingered, electric.
Ethan’s cock twitched despite agony. Taboo flickered—sis always his rock, fiery redhead with hips that swayed hypnotic. “Brooke…”
She smirked. “Shh. Pain needs release.”
Her fingers grazed his bulge. Bold. He hardened. She unzipped, freeing his thick shaft, veined and pulsing. “Fuck, Ethan, even busted you’re hung wild.”
Lips enveloped him—wet, slurping heaven. Tongue swirled the helmet, tasting pre-cum salt. He groaned, hips bucking weakly. She deep-throated, gagging deliciously, spit dripping. Hand pumped base, nails scraping balls.
“Gonna cum…”
“Feed sis,” she purred, sucking feral.
Explosion rocked him—ropes of jizz flooding her throat. She swallowed greedy, milking every drop. 💋
“Therapy starts tomorrow,” she said casual, wiping lips. Wild relief washed him.
Back to Chapter 1 | Jump to Chapter 3 | Jump to Chapter 5
Chapter 3: Graveside Shadows and Pierced Flesh
Tyler Reese’s memorial packed a windy seaside chapel. Ethan, propped in wheelchair by Brooke, mumbled condolences to widow Mia—stunning brunette, eyes hollow, flanked by twin boys, seven-ish, wide-eyed terrors.
Mia’s gaze flickered recognition? Nah, shock glazed her. Ethan fled fast, ass hoist failing outside. He plummeted pavement-ward—crack! Windshield starred, door dented inches above skull.
“Down!” Ethan bellowed. Brooke dove. Sirens wailed. Victor again.
Cops swarmed, towing Brooke’s ride. Detectives grilled: funeral leak? Phone hack revealed—calendar forwarding to Victor.
Nurse torture ramped. Brooke flexed work time for PT beachfront, waves mocking plywood-shrouded kiosk. Therapist yanked limbs; Ethan howled.
Second session: whizz! Bullet shaved air, cratering sand behind. Ethan belly-flopped ambulance underbelly. Cops swarmed. Victor fled.
Trap sprung. Fake text: Ethan to cemetery for Tyler’s flowers. Borrowed rig. Victor perched blufftop—rifle up, cops lit him, riddling meat.
Scrawls in his wreck: kill Ethan, reclaim Lena. Her death? Blame game.
Ethan spiraled—PTSD claws dug. Dr. Voss probed: narcissism spawned adultery chaos, deaths. Sessions raw, peeling ego scabs.
Guilt tsunami. GoFundMe for Mia’s twins: fat donation, letter owning slice of blame. Number offered.
Text pinged: Mia. “Tried thrice, shot twice—not yours. Let go.”
He unloaded Lena saga. Her reply: “Hubby cheated too. But twins need bike dad, soccer coach. Goalie’s his dream.”
Therapist nudged altruism. Ethan bit: “I’ll bike-train one. Soccer other. Who’s his idol?”
Silence. Work resumed, distractions dulled flashbacks.
Reply: address, 6pm tomorrow.
Coworker Dex’s kid aced soccer; hired his bro Cole, teen phenom. Gear-loaded, they rolled Mia’s beach bungalow.
Back to Chapter 2 | Jump to Chapter 4
Chapter 4: Babysit Blues and Neighbor’s Truth Bomb
Mia greeted awkward—salt-tousled hair, cutoff shorts hugging plump ass. Twins peeked shy: Liam bike-shy, Logan goalie-mad.
Cole dazzled Logan with pads, gloves—backyard drills amid dune grass. Ethan coached Liam sidewalk circles, training wheels wobbling, kid’s giggles pure.
Inside reeked lived-in: pizza boxes, sandy floors. Mia insisted dinner—grilled fish tangy, beers cold. Routine hooked: twice weekly, progress soared.
Week three: Mia vanished post-dinner, “errands.” Cole and Ethan homework-herded; she stumbled 9pm, heels clicking, lipstick smeared, skirt hiked.
Next: same vanishing. Ethan soured—free nanny gig?
Cole soloed soccer after. Elder neighbor Vera, plump granny-type, door-opened: “Liam’s tummy-ache down.”
Cole/Logan backyard. Vera blunt: “You’re the sucker Mia cons into kid-watch for her cock-chases.”
Ethan blinked. Vera spilled: Mia/Tyler mutual cheaters pre-vows. Open pact frayed—Tyler’s envy boiled. DNA bombs: twins not his. He bailed year back. Funeral grief real; she’d banked reconciliation.
“Kids heard blowout scream-fest. Tyler ghosted post-results. You resemble him—spooks ’em.”
Ethan reeled. Mia’s ploy? Grief mask for slutting.
Night dragged. Fed boys, tucked. Couch-slumped, game flickering, cynicism festered. Affairs, shootings, fakes—wild curse plagued.
10pm: Mia sashayed in, crimson dress clinging tits like lover’s grip, thigh-highs whispering. Perfume musky, eyes glassy booze-lust.
“Heroes tonight? Stay.” Voice husky.
Ethan tensed. “Heard neighborhood lore.”
She laughed throaty. “Truth? Tyler fucked half town; I matched. Kids? OOPS from flings. Needed strong hands like yours.” Hand trailed his chest, nails raking.
Door shut. Boys asleep. She straddled, grinding wet heat denim-clad bulge. “Wild fuck rewards?”
Lips crashed—tongue invasion, tasting wine-sweet. Hands mauled tits, nipples pebbles under lace. She yanked his tee, sucking pecs, biting.
Pants shed. Cock sprang, her mouth devoured—sloppy, vacuum seal, balls slapped chin. “Mmm, thick beast,” slurped between gulps.
Bent her doggy couch—ass cheeks spread, pink slit drooling. Plunged balls-deep, pussy gripping vise. Slaps echoed, her screams wild: “Pound harder, daddy!”
Ass-fingered, she bucked feral. Switched—face-fuck brutal, gagging rivers. Railed prone-bone, carpet-burn thighs. Climax tsunami: walls milked cum jets deep.
Panting heap. “More nights?” she cooed.
Wild addiction brewed. 💋
Back to Chapter 3 | Jump to Chapter 5 | Jump to Chapter 6
Chapter 5: Twisted Tutors and Sister’s Secret Cravings
Routine warped erotic. Cole stayed some eves, oblivious drills. Mia’s “errands” synced Ethan-alone. Home alone? Brooke ramped “therapy.”
One storm-lashed night, rain hammering windows, Brooke oiled his scars. “Shoulder’s healing wild,” she murmured, palms gliding torso.
Cock tented sheets. She grinned wicked. “Naughty bro.” Straddled nude—shaved mound glistening, tits heaving.
Sank slow, cunt devouring inch-by-inch. “Fuck, sis-pussy tight,” he gasped. Rode cowgirl savage, hips piston, clit grinding pubes. Nails clawed chest, welts rising.
Flipped reverse—ass cheeks clapped, rosebud winked. Lubed finger invaded, double-stuffed moans. “Anal next?” she begged.
Bent her, greased pole nudged pucker. Popped sphincter—velvet inferno. Fucked slow-burn to ram-rod frenzy. She quivered orgasmic, shitting sparks almost.
Pulled, hosed tits—pearly ropes draping. Licked clean mutual.
“Our wild secret,” she winked post-shower.
Mia’s bungalow became fuck-den. Once, post-drill, Cole left, she pounced Liam/Logan-bedded. Kitchen counter: skirt-up, no panties, dripped excitement.
“Eat me,” commanded. Face buried—musky tang, clit sucked vacuum. Fingers curled G, squirt showered chin.
Table-laid missionary—legs ankles-by-ears, cervix-kissed thrusts. Dirty talk filth: “Breed widow-cunt, make real babies!”
Balls tightened—creampie gush, overflow trickling ass-crack.
Neighbor Vera sniffed out, cornered Ethan backyard. “Mia’s rut-fest legend. Fucked Tyler’s bro once—wild orgy beach. Careful, she’ll drain balls dry.”
Warning spiced. Therapy Voss glimpsed glow: “Progress?”
“Healing wild,” Ethan lied smooth.
Twins bonded—Liam two-wheel free, Logan blocked lasers. Proud dad-proxy vibes.
Brooke crashed one Mia-dinner. Air crackled. Post-meal boys-bed, wine flowed. Mia eyed Brooke’s rack. “Sister hotness.”
Brooke flushed. “Flirt?”
Mia leaned predatory. “Share Ethan, sisters?”
Wild proposal hung. 🔥
Back to Chapter 4 | Jump to Chapter 6
Chapter 6: Threesome Tempest and Forbidden Depths
Boys tucked, deck lights dimmed waves roar. Mia poured shots—tequila fire-gut. “Truth: crave pussy too. Ethan says you’re wild fuck, Brooke.”
Brooke sipped bold. “Prove.”
Mia yanked Brooke close—lips meshed sloppy, tongues duel. Ethan watched cock rage, stroking slow.
Clothes shredded. Mia’s tongue lashed Brooke’s nipples—pink nubs erect, moans sea-salt. Brooke reciprocated, fingers delved Mia’s soppy folds, squelch audible.
“On table, sluts,” Ethan barked. Mia spread wide, Brooke face-planted munch-mad. Ethan railed Brooke doggy—pussy farted air, sloppy seconds gleam.
Swapped: Brooke rimmed Mia ass, Ethan pile-drove Mia throat. Gags retch-sweet, mascara rivers.
Double-team: Ethan ass-fucked Brooke bent table, Mia strap-on (hidden drawer) reamed her cunt. Sandwich screams—orgasm chain-reaction, squirts pooling.
Climax circle: Mia reverse-cow Ethan, Brooke sat face grinding. Cum erupted Mia guts, overflow Brooke licked.
Collapsed tangle, sweat-slick, cum-reeking. “Regular?” Mia purred.
“Wild pact,” Brooke agreed.
Conflicts brewed. Cole hinted Logan’s scout camp—new coach needed. Vera gossiped Mia’s ex-fling circled, jealous.
Tyler’s shade loomed: donated more, anonymous checks. Guilt fueled fucks harder.
One dawn PT beach-run, Ethan spotted Mia beach-volleying—tiny bikini, tits bouncing hypnotic. Joined, spiked balls wild.
Post-game dunes: blanket fuck under stars. Sand-scratch grit, waves crash rhythm. Mia 69’d savage, ass smothered—rimmed deep, balls sucked vacuum. Fucked every hole, position porn-star: wheelbarrow, standing carry, piledriver creampie ass-flood.
“Your wild cock owns me,” gasped.
Back home, Brooke waited jealous-fuck: strap retaliated, pegged him prostate-milking ropes hands-free.
Balance teetered taboo edge.
Back to Chapter 5 | Jump to Chapter 7
Chapter 7: Orgy Reckoning and Eternal Surge
Camp approached. Cole bowed out—family trip. Vera volunteered watch? Nah, Mia schemed “team-building” beach bash.
Invites: Dex from work, hung fireman build; his girl Tara, bi-curious vixen. Vera tagged— “Miss orgies since 70s.”
Bonfire crackled, beers flowed, twins with sitter miles off. Mia bikini-barely, Brooke thong micro. Talk turned crude.
“Ethan’s rod legend,” Mia bragged. Dared strip-volleyball. Losers stripped—soon nude frenzy.
Pile-on beach: Dex railed Tara missionary grunts, Ethan/Mia 69 roll. Brooke/Vera scissor-grind, moans dune-echo.
Swap storm. Ethan Tara-cunt stretched—virgin-tight, screams delight. “Wild girth splits!” Dex Brooke ass-plunge, grunting pig-root.
Vera deep-throated Ethan, gumless vacuum wonder. Mia Tara strap-fucked, fist-prepped gape.
Climax daisy-chain: beach blanket conga—Ethan Tara ass, Tara licks Mia, Mia Dex cock, Dex Brooke pussy, Brooke Vera face, Vera Ethan balls.
Moans crescendo wild thunderstorm. Cum volley: Ethan hosed internals, chain floods. Squirt showers sand-mud.
Dawn broke, bodies strewn euphoric wreck. Twins thrived coached; Ethan therapy-graduated, scars badges.
Karma circled back—not bitch, but wild mistress rewarding depravity plunge. Mia whispered post-fuck, boys sleep-peaceful: “Tyler’s ghost fucked off. You’re real alpha.”
Brooke curled flank: “Family forever twisted.”
Waves lapped endless. Life pulsed raw, unfiltered pleasure torrent. No regrets. Just wild tides crashing eternal. 🔥💋
