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Spy Games Page 8

by Cassandra Dee


  But I’m not a prince. I’m a fucking animal, and Holly wasn’t gonna moan.

  She was gonna scream.

  Oh yeah, my pretty baby was getting dicked deep tonight, and there was no way to fight her destiny.

  And in a moment, I was on her. No warning, no nothing. My massive form was draped all over her smaller one, pinning her to the bedspread.

  “Mr. Evans,” she gasped, eyes wide, staring into mine. “Mr. Evans!”

  And reaching down, I grabbed my dick. Aw fuck. Her cunt was so close, the heat radiating like a furnace. Slowly, I dragged the tip through her pussy lips, getting myself good and wet.

  Holly moaned then, throwing her head back.

  “Feel good, pretty baby?” I rasped. “Does that feel good?”

  “Unnh,” she moaned again, eyes closed. “Oh god.”

  “Here,” I growled. “This’ll feel even better.”

  And slowly, I rubbed the bottom of her clit with my dick tip before stirring in circles around that hard nub.

  Fuck, she was so aroused!

  Her pussy dripped more, the folds steaming. The brunette part her thighs imperceptibly, pulling those petals apart, revealing the pink within.

  Because shit, my girl is beautiful. That’s right, she’s got creamy white lips on the outside, but when you pull apart that goodness, it’s succulent and rosy red like a grapefruit.

  “Oh,” Holly cried out again. “Oh oh oh!”

  And with that, I did it. Enough foreplay is enough. Clearly, the little slut was turned on as hell, big boobies rising and falling heavily, spreading her legs to give me better access.

  And in one fell swoop, it happened. Yeah, I jammed ten inches into that tight pussy in one go.

  There was a barrier inside, for sure. But did I let it stop me?

  Naw.

  Holly’s eyes opened wide for a moment, her body jerking. But then that pussy began to convulse.

  Oh yeah, that’s how slutty my baby is. Even though the pain had to sting, she was already starting to come. My dick in her sweetest space did it, and that cunt began clamping and clasping, shaking with spasms.

  “Unnh!” was her helpless cry, pussy crammed tight with my meatstick. “Unnh!”

  But did I give her time to adjust? Naw, I’m a motherfucker. Because who ties up a girl during her first time? Who rams their cock in, barreling through her innocence in one swift push?

  Me, that’s who.

  It’s the take no prisoners way of doing things.

  And the train hadn’t stopped yet.

  Because I began pummeling her cunt hard and fast. Oh yeah, as she exploded around me, I ran my hard pole in and out like a pile driver, trashing that sweet space.

  “Fuck,” was my grunt. “Fuck fuck fuck.”

  Because this girl did it for me. In more ways than one. My balls rose, chest and abs going tight as my thighs clenched. And fuck, but it happened then.

  That’s right, after two minutes in bed, I was exploding into that hot pussy.

  Shit, shit, shit. This hasn’t happened since I was fifteen and boinking Mrs. Urkel down the street. It’d been embarrassing then, spraying my ejaculate like a dog in heat prematurely.

  But fuck, Holly was so good, her pussy so tight. So I went with it. My balls unloaded, hot spray after hot spray of juicy, virile semen blasting into her fertile body.

  The girl came alive then.

  “Mr. Evans!” she shrieked. “Pull out, pull out!”

  But I’m a nasty motherfucker. Because this was the real reason for the handcuffs. Of course I like tying girls up and then using their bodies. But the toys are also good for this reason.

  Because I had no intention of pulling out.

  Not when the girl was so fertile and sweet.

  Not with her cunt creaming around my shaft like this.

  So I clapped a hand over her mouth.

  “Trust me on this baby,” was my harsh rasp, hips still pumping away. “Trust me.”

  And with a moan, her head fell back.

  Because shit, the sex had been too good. My girl literally passed out for a moment, dying the little death.

  Aw fuck. Who knew? Who knew that Holly would be so fucking sexy and slutty, diving into subspace while tasting dick for the first time?

  I pumped a couple more times, spraying that sweet female flesh with virile jism, pleased as fuck.

  Because this girl is perfect for me.

  In every which way, accommodating my every whim.

  And shit, but I was gonna take it all, greedy to the max. After all, money was exchanged, a contract set up. Sure, the details weren’t all hashed out the way she expected.

  But you know what? That’s okay.

  We’ll work it out.

  Because Holly … you’re mine.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Holly

  Oh god.

  My skin prickled as the hot water beat on my shoulders.

  Because I just lost my virginity to a man I barely know, and yet it was amazing.

  Exhilarating.

  Absolutely thrilling.

  I was in the plane’s small shower, rinsing my hair while the water sluiced all over my body. Ooh. A tremble ran down my spine.

  Because Mr. Evans touched me there. And there. And there.

  The man just didn’t know how to stop.

  And after that first time, I lost consciousness. It’s crazy, for sure. How in the world?

  But my vision blacked out, and when I came to, the cuffs were gone. Mr. Evans loomed over me, that massive form filling my vision.

  “You’re okay, sweetheart,” he rasped, stroking my cheek. There was a strange light in those blue eyes, something that called to my innermost soul. “You ready to go again?”

  I gasped. Because is this what happens to virgins? I’d always imagined losing my innocence to a man on my wedding night. Or at least, to a man that I was deeply in love with and had been dating for a long time.

  Yeah, it’s old-fashioned.

  Old school even.

  But I can’t help it.

  And now, the opposite has happened. A man chained me to his bed, tying my body up tight. And then that thick cock had plunged within, making me scream. Not moan and gasp, but scream with ecstasy.

  Oh god.

  This doesn’t happen in romance novels. Princesses don’t do this with their princes.

  Or do they?

  Because I’d come so hard, welcoming the invasion into my sweetest space. And after it was all over, Mr. Evans was … gentle.

  Sure, he took me again. And again. And again.

  So much so that my pussy ached now.

  But there was meaning to it. He was careful the second, third and fourth times. No more cuffs. No more steel chains.

  Just hard cock, all the way.

  And I loved it.

  My body shuddered as I plucked one of the little travel soaps and began lathering up. Oooh, tenderness ruled my form. Because his penetration had hurt for sure. But it was damn good as well.

  So amazing.

  I bent over and started washing down there, careful with the sensitive flesh. It’d been obscene, looking down as he fucked me. My labia stretched so wide around cock, tight and straining.

  His massive shaft emerging from between my lips, coated with glistening juices.

  My glistening juices.

  Growing hot, my cheeks flushed.

  Because I’d let go like a flood. The cream had been unstoppable, and soon Mr. Evans’ cock had been coated in female goo.

  Oh god.

  My hand moved slower, cleaning my inner thighs. But then something unexpected happened. Because a giant glob of semen slid out of my sex, slipping down my thigh before swirling down the shower drain.

  What the?

  Hot embarrassment flooded me, and then panic.

  I froze.

  Wait, wait!

  And realization flooded my mind.

  Because I’m not on the pill. I’m not on any type of birt
h control, period, and we didn’t use anything. Mr. Evans promised to pull out, but everything had happened so fast.

  Oh god.

  Eyes wide, I stared as the last remnants of goopy white swirled down the drain, heart hammering in my chest.

  This was wrong.

  I should be outraged, afraid, and horrified, all rolled into one.

  But it’d been so good. Thrilling. Exciting. I bit my lip, remembering that moment when Mr. Evans spurted inside me. It had felt like a firehouse unleashing itself within my body, pumping the tiny space full.

  My clit trembled, pussy lips growing moist once more.

  Because Mr. Evans had been irresistible. Powerful. Dominating. Is this how sex always feels? Touching the very essence of your soul?

  My hand swept over my clit, and a jolt of pleasure rocketed through the sensitive spot. Oh god! I leaned against the shower wall as the water continued to beat down in hot bolts. Slowly, a finger slid into my pink cavern, exploring inside.

  Oh god.

  This was wrong.

  I never touch myself like this.

  But Mr. Evans has brought out the bad girl within.

  Because I stirred the digit a little then, his spunk coating the questing finger.

  God, there was so much.

  And without thinking, I inserted second finger, stretching my core. Oooh, yeah. A shiver ran through my core, fingers pumping in and out slowly. Yes, Mr. Evans, take me, take me. I leaned back more and sighed, tilting my head up in ecstasy.

  Because Mr. Evans is my everything.

  That giant cock.

  The way he took me ruthlessly.

  Oh, yes! I want more!

  And listening to the siren song, I slipped a third finger in, this time stretching my pussy to the max.

  Hell yeah!

  And suddenly, my core burst. Yeah, right there in the tiny stall, I had my fifth massive orgasm within two hours.

  It was crazy, but my body didn’t care. Ripples shot through my arms and legs, knees collapsing on the hard tile. Spasms wracked my cunt, fingers aching and stiff as the warm, wet walls came down hard like a clamp.

  “Oh, Thorn!” was my helpless mewl. “Oh god, Thorn!”

  And suddenly, a little sensor went off on the ceiling above me. A blue light blinked while a chime sounded.

  Oh shit!

  The plane was landing!

  I needed to get out of here stat.

  Limbs still shaking, I jumped out of the shower and grabbed one of the towels, pulling on my uniform in a hurry. Oh god, my hair was a dripping mess, the dress sticking to my curves damply.

  Where was Mr. Evans?

  His big frame wasn’t in the bedroom. So hurriedly, I stepped into my stilettos and wobbled outside. There he was, seated in one of the big white chairs, not a hair out of place.

  Oh god, the man was handsome. An Adonis, reading a paper, like nothing untoward had happened.

  Except he’d fucked me silly, inducting me into the mile-high club.

  And those blue eyes flicked up, a smile on his lips, flashing even white teeth.

  “Hey there,” came that soft drawl. “You feel okay?”

  Never mind the fact that I was a hot mess. I knew what he was talking about. My aching pussy. The vaginal lips that had stretched so wide to accommodate him.

  And I blushed, our connection immediate.

  “Yes,” was my answering murmur. “I’m fine, thanks.”

  “Good,” he growled, still devouring me with his eyes. “Now why don’t you take a seat and make yourself comfortable as we land? I’ll be gone for,” he paused, glancing at his watch, “about two hours. Damn meeting. But after that, we’ll head from Charlotte to Chicago. What do you say, sweetheart? Are you ready for round two?”

  Round two? My cheeks flared. We’d already done rounds one through five in the back bedroom. The next leg of the flight was more like round six.

  But shyly, I nodded.

  “Yes, sir. I’ll be ready when you return.”

  Mr. Evans nodded, pleased, snapping his paper again.

  “Perfect, sweetheart,” he growled. “Now get your seatbelt on because we’re landing.”

  And tottering off in my heels, I strapped myself into the staff jumpseat once more, heart pounding. Because oh god, I had two hours to recover before the big man was back. Two hours to rest and relax, and get myself together. But the truth was that I didn’t need two hours. Because I’d be ready for the alpha … anytime and anywhere.

  ***

  Katrina’s bright, cheerful face filled the screen as she picked up.

  “Hey, how are you girl?” she chirped. I was sitting in one of the plush white chairs in the main cabin section. Mr. Evans was gone, and after the maintenance crew left, it was just me.

  Dressed in my jammies, I knew I looked ridiculous. After all, how many people wear flannel cat pajamas when they’re on a private aircraft?

  But hey, Katrina’s my buddy, so I popped open a bag of potato chips and slipped a few in my mouth. Yum. Chips have always been my weakness. Potato chips, tortilla chips, baked or fried, I love them all. Especially Cheesy-O’s, those are my favorite.

  But right now, there was a lot of catching up to do.

  “Hey girl,” I waved. “What’s goin’ on?”

  My buddy grinned, tossing back a mane of long, blonde hair.

  “Not much,” her eyes squinted, looking curiously at my surroundings. “Wait, are you still on the plane? You’re not in the hotel room, are you?”

  “Yeah, I’m on the plane,” came my satisfied crunch. “It’s easier if I stay here until the client comes back. It’s just for a few hours.”

  Katrina nodded, her face alight with glee.

  “So aren’t you gonna tell me? What’s going on? This has to be juicy, ooh, I’m so jealous.”

  I bit my lip, rolling my eyes a bit. And since we have a mind-meld, Katrina immediately squealed, almost bouncing up and down in her chair.

  “Oh my god! You really did it. You boinked a guy. Congratulations, girl, welcome to the dark side.”

  I sighed, cheeks hot again. But then came a smirk. Why not? Everyone has sex. It’s not like it was dirty or criminal or anything.

  Except maybe what Mr. Evans and I did was dirty and criminal, with the chains and all.

  Oh my god. But it felt so good.

  But I decided to skip that part for now.

  “Yeah. It was… it was really amazing.”

  Katrina’s eyebrows flew up into her wispy blonde hair. “Oooh! Tell me about it. Did you, you know, do the uh uh uh?”

  Katrina was so ridiculous that I had to giggle. Besides, what was she talking about?

  “I don’t know. We had sex. What do I say?”

  She pouted. “You know! You know what I’m talking about. I've always dated older men and this client was up there age-wise, right? So was he big? Did he have trouble?"

  I thought back, trying to remember if anything had seemed difficult for Mr. Evans.

  "He was big,” came my slow voice. “But what do you mean, trouble? Everything seemed okay,” my voice trailed off uncertainly.

  Katrina remained unfazed.

  "You know, trouble. Getting it up. Older guys often struggle, I’ve seen it a million times,” she confided in a low voice. “There are lots of tips and tricks, no worries,” my friend almost whispered. “I can help if needed."

  Oh my god, this was hysterical. Mr. Evans had no problems like that at all. I guffawed rudely, potato chips almost spurting from my nose.

  “Naw, we’re good Kat. My guy was hard the whole time.”

  Because Thorn had been so ready, rigid and pulsing. His pants had tented, barely restraining the powerful length. It was comical thinking that some guys couldn’t get it up compared to my recent experience. We’d done it … three or four times in two hours?

  "Then you don't have anything to worry about,” pronounced Kat with a sigh. “You’re lucky,” she confided. “Almost all my boyfriends have bee
n on Viagra and the like. It helps sometimes, but not always,” she said sadly.

  This conversation was out of this world.

  “Kat, that’s why you have to stop dating seventy year-olds,” I said patiently. “They’re too old for you.”

  But I knew my friend wouldn’t listen. It’s in one ear and out the other with this girl. She likes them old, and that’s that. Not even a lightning bolt to the head was gonna change her preferences.

  But there was one thing my buddy could help me with.

  “But he was really big.” I confided, cheeks flushing hot again. “Like really, really big.”

  The blonde rolled her eyes, sighing.

  “It was your first time, of course he felt big. You’ve never been used before, so you’re small. But show me with your hands, how big?” she demanded.

  Hmm, how to do this?

  I formed my thumb and finger into a circle. No, that wasn’t even close. So using both hands, I cupped them together, miming an iron pipe. Yeah, that was more like it.

  And Katrina gasped, eyes going wide with shock and awe.

  “No way! There was no way he was that big! It’s impossible! Does that even exist?” In a lower voice she continued, “Is your pussy destroyed? I mean, seriously Holly, you must be hurting.”

  I giggled a little.

  “Yeah, I mean, it hurt, but I’m okay.” My body heated thinking about how full he had made me feel. “Mr. Evans went slow at first, and it hurt when he put it in. But after a while, it felt really, really good. He said I’d stretch,” I confided. “Because I’m young.”

  Katrina burst into laughter.

  “Man, this guy is a player,” she said skeptically. “Stretching because you’re young? Because you’re so “elastic”?” she asked, miming air quotes.

  I frowned. In fact, Mr. Evans did say that. He used the word “elastic” when describing my pussy, saying that it could bend in ways older women couldn’t.

  But I put it out of my head. This was just a coincidence. And Katrina seemed to forget it too.

  “Come on, show me the plane!” she demanded with a bright smile. “I want to see what it’s like to fly private.”

  I giggled, her excitement contagious.

  “Okay,” I said, lifting the laptop so that the camera faced away. “Here’s the main cabin area, and as we walk back here, you can see there’s a private room in back.”

 

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