Dirty Daddy: A Secret Baby Bad Boy Romance

by Alexis Angel

  “It’s more of a back and forth between Arsen and I that results in some of the ideas that we have coming to me,” I tell the camera sweetly, belying my thumping heart at being on television for millions. “If he weren’t asking the right questions, I wouldn’t be coming up with the ideas.”

  “How did you come up with the idea to partner with Oculus Rift to provide on-demand virtual reality re-enactments of popular romance e-books?” Tricia asks.

  “Oh, that’s easy,” Arsen says and the camera swivels back to him. “We were in the shower together, and having some fun, when I said everyone should be so lucky to have someone so good at…” Arsen trails off as he realizes just what he’s done. Tricia has a wide smile on her face, with a gotcha grin. Arsen’s just embarrassed himself on live television. This is what reporters live for.

  But not if I can help it.

  Taking a deep breath and summoning every last bit of courage I have, I take several steps over to my husband. The man I married six months ago in a wedding that the New York Journal called ‘the Social Event of the Year’.

  I wrap my arm around Arsen’s and take my hand and move his face over to mine. He looks at me, and I smile at him. He see’s into my soul through my eyes – and I think he realizes that together, nothing can stop us.

  That’s when I look to the camera.

  “Arsen and I were having sex in the shower,” I say without any trace of embarrassment and I see Tricia the reporter gasp. “He was fucking me so good doggiestyle, when he said to me that if everyone had someone like me in their lives who could fuck so good then a lot of the problems in the world would be solved.”

  “Uh-uhm, right…” Tricia says, starting to visibly sweat.

  “That’s when I pulled out and got on my knees and began to suck him off,” I say to Tricia, making sure to look her directly in the eyes. “And I started saying what if we had a movie that went along with a dirty book. And then what if we could somehow take the step of creating that world one step further for people. And that’s how Naughty Realities was born. From shower sex.”

  Tricia is visibly sweating. She didn’t expect me to get this raw. It’s only 8 am on the East Coast. People are still getting up.

  “Although,” I say sweetly, giving the reporter a break. “If there’s anyone else in this world we rely on more than anything else, it’s Arsen’s lawyer and his beautiful wife and my good friend, Yasmine.”

  Gerard and Yasmine smile from where they’re seated at the couch. They’ve just been married a month ago. It shows in how close they sit and the fact that they can’t stop touching one another.

  The interview continues for a little bit longer, mainly with Gerard and Arsen answering questions on the business end. How the proliferation of high-tech phone sex has created a new industry in America. How readily accessible virtual erotic encounters have literally taken the fight out of ISIS when used successfully. And how the future looks for Hawkelane Media.

  “Things are looking up,” Arsen says, looking at me as he smiles.

  I look down. There’s a tent beginning to form in his trousers. I smile. Looking up indeed.

  Within minutes, the interview closes and Tricia and her cameraman are out the door. Gerard and Yasmine follow soon after.

  Arsen and I eventually make our way to his office, where he closes the door as I pull myself into him and kiss him.

  I can feel my breasts mash against his hard body. I can feel his hands squeeze my ass and I gasp as a finger travels lightly over the opening to my pussy.

  Unfortunately, I’m going to have to leave you here. Don’t worry, I’m not kicking you out. You haven’t seen enough yet. There’s plenty more to come. Don’t you ever worry about that.

  There’s always more to cum.

  65

  Goodbye From Arsen

  So, yeah, I guess I could go on and on about how we grew HawkeLane Media into one of the giant media conglomerates of the 21st Century. Or I could talk about the fucking nasty things that Ashley and I ended up doing. And you know what, most likely we will. Our story probably isn’t over yet. There’s still a whole lot of fucking she and I have to do, and I’m wondering what it would be like to double team her with someone. Do I know something you don’t? Absolutely. Am I going to tell you what it is? Absolutely not. You’re just going to need to follow this fucking story and this author for the next few weeks, because I think our MFM story is going to blow your mind. Maybe soak your panties. Get your pussy nice and wet, getting it ready to get fucked however you fucking want.

  Anyways, so how would you find out about shit like that? Well, for one thing, follow the author. Follow Alexis Angel on Amazon by going to her amazon page. You an email her at author.alexisangel@naughtyangelpublishing.com.

  Although if you really want the royal fucking treatment, go join her fucking newsletter and sign up for those giveaways. Seriously. Like $100 a week in shit just handed out to have fun.

  Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/csXC2P

  Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/author.alexisangel/

  Facebook profile: https://www.facebook.com/alexis.angel.754

  Oh yeah, you’re probably asking. Is this shameless self-promotion by the author?

  You fucking bet it is. And do I realize I’m being used to promote her? You fucking bet I do. You think I want her to change her mind and give me a 4 inch cock? And instead of an 8 pack maybe a beer keg? Fuck no, so because of that, let me just tell you if you liked me at all and want to read more, you will do this shit and follow Alexis Angel.

  Anyways, that’s all. Ashley’s lying in bed in this fucking small as shit negligee she got from Fredericks and I’m going to fuck the shit out of her. So unless you want to join us, then I have to go.

  Oh, and if you want to join us, just click here and you’ll get it soon.

  A Note From The Author

  Ok wow! So I hope you enjoyed Client 5!

  Client 5 is like the first book that I ever wrote after Jailbait that really put me on the map sort of. I mean, I’m not really a big author on the map, but I was like less than nobody before, ya know?

  So like I had 300 spots for my ARC team and 1100 people signed up for Client 5. That’s when I knew I was on a roll. So here’s what we have left for Thank You Content!

  Scandalous - a sexy older woman and younger man romance. Try it! I guarantee you’ll like it!

  Man Chaser - first time to be included on Thank You Content.

  I’ve attached a Mona Cox book - Fiona Vs. Football Player.

  An added treat. After leaving Magnus and Penny, I attached a short story of Penny and Magnus set past the epilogue. Almost extended epilogue, but can be read as short story too!

  And finally a preview of a Mona Cox, Becca Vs. Biker.

  Our goal in this is simple.

  To entertain you as long as we can to give you the best experience with the words that we hold so dear. Because while we may be in various corners of the world, the fact that we are sharing these brings us closer together we feel.

  Thank you so much for reading!

  xoxo

  Alexis

  Scandalous: A Secret Baby Dark Romance

  Scandalous: A Secret Baby Dark Romance

  Just looking at him is enough to melt my panties. That’s why I’m not wearing any around him.

  Lance Anders. He’s cocky. He’s arrogant.

  He’s too beautiful to be real.

  But…he’s entirely forbidden.

  I’m in a forced marriage to his father. A prisoner in a literally loveless partnership that only exists through blackmail. I have too much to lose.

  Besides, I’m 15 years older. That makes me wiser. And my brain tells me to stay far away from him when he comes to visit for the summer.

  He’s too risky for me to touch. Too taboo for me to taste. One touch of this Devil’s lips and I know I’ll be damned.

  Then why am I captivated by those deep, soulful eyes?

  Why can’t I get enough of that
shirtless body? And that bulge in his pants. Is that really his…?

  Maybe Heaven can wait…

  Scandalous is a full-length standalone romance that will have your naughty bits twitching with delight. No cliffhanger. HEA guaranteed.

  66

  Lance

  SLURP!

  I look down at the sight of the nasty slut sucking my cock greedily and I grunt with a self-satisfied air. She’s getting into it. Her body isn’t the best, but I don’t fucking care. She’s the President’s only fucking daughter, and she’s giving me head while my bare ass is resting comfortably on the President’s chair.

  That’s right. I’m sitting in the Big Chair itself. Right behind the President’s desk in the Oval Office. It’s night of course, and no one else is in here.

  Here’s a history lesson for you. The President’s desk is called the Resolute Desk because it was given as a gift to the United States from the HMS Resolute from Her Royal Navy.

  If Abby doesn’t have good aim, it’s also going to be called the Lance Anders splatter pad for when I cum all over it after this blowjob.

  Lance Anders, that’s me, alright. And that’s probably the only reason that Secret Service hasn’t hauled me away from here, or building security hasn’t been set on me yet.

  Because I’m supposed to be here.

  Allow me to introduce myself if you haven’t been keeping in touch with CNN and Politico like the other Washington DC junkies that surround this place. My name is Lance Anders of the New York Anders Family. My father is Michael Anders, the billionaire scion of the media empire bearing his name—Anders Media.

  Before you think what a great man my dad is though, let me just correct you real quick. It was my grandfather who built the fucking company to what it is today. Starting with newspapers, and then moving on to radio. Then magazines. Finally television and film. And toward the end of his life—the man worked till he died—the Internet.

  My dad, well, he just built on it. Went into fucking politics. He says it's to protect the family business. Whatever. He just probably likes the power. I don’t remember much, when he and my mom were married - I think I was 2.

  Oh right, I call him my Dad because he’s all I’ve ever known. My mom died shortly after marrying that asshole. He became my legal guardian. But we’ll talk more about how I haven’t talked to him in forever. Right now I’m fucking this bitch.

  She moans again lewdly and I think I love politics. My Dad said I should go into politics too. That’s basically why I’m here as a White House Intern right after my senior year at Yale. My dad’s the Mayor of New York City, and with a few favors and a few strings pulled, he’s put his son in at a job where he can sit in the President’s chair and get a blowjob from the First fucking Daughter.

  Speaking of which, I look down. Holy fucking shit! Abby is bobbing her head up and down my shaft like a fucking pro. My cock is in a world of it’s own. It’s throbbing so hard, ready to cum that it must have it’s own fucking heartbeat. Yeah, my dad definitely wouldn’t approve of this.

  But you know what? He probably wouldn’t approve of a lot of things I do. Definitely doesn’t approve of the line of tattoos gracing my arms and chest that I got in college while playing football. Definitely doesn’t approve of the fucking assembly line fucking I do of the female species. Although, there’s nothing I can really do about that. The women, they seem to throw themselves at me.

  And hey, can you fucking blame them? I’m 21 years old. Young, with blue eyes and dimples. A ripped fucking body. The body of a fucking Greek god. A fucking gladiator. 8-pack abs. I bench twice my weight easily. I have a body fat index of 5%.

  But that’s what brings the ladies to me in the first place. First year co-eds, sorority sluts, graduate student assistants, professors, housewives, and now First Daughters. They coo with lust as I take my clothes off and kiss between their neck and their shoulder. Then they get my pants off.

  And their eyes bug the fuck out.

  Because they see it.

  My cock.

  12 fucking inches of lust muscle. Veiny, and thick as your wrist. With its head that turns an angry color of purple, and at first they’re afraid.

  “Lance, I don’t know….” they say out loud with fear and trepidation in their voices. They try jerking it, but they usually need two hands. I get them off once with my fingers and tongue. And then no matter their protests, I get them to take just the tip.

  I’ll probably only be able to sink in half way into them. But by then they’re clawing at my back and screaming for Jesus. They’ve blasted off and gone into orbit, their minds no longer on this level of existence my cock is so good. By the time I’m done with them, they’ve forgotten their fucking names. They’ve forgotten their boyfriends, lovers, spouses, parents, you name it.

  All they know is Lance fucking Anders. All they want is Lance Anders.

  I grunt savagely as Abby continues her ministrations on my cock. I need to fuck, just thinking about all these women.

  “Hey, get up,” I command. She looks at me for one second but them I pull her up with my arms. She squeals as I turn her over and bend her on her daddy’s desk. I lift up her skirt and yank down her panties. Fuck, I may have ripped those panties. But they were boring cotton briefs. Not really worth the loss, if you ask me.

  Abby squeals again in excitement and juts her ass out. I waste no time and put on a condom and position my head into the mouth of her pussy and shove into her canal.

  “Oh my fucking God, Lance!” Abby moans out loud.

  She starts squirming on my cock, like a bug pierced by a needle—her arms writhing all over the desk. I don’t notice because I’ve closed my eyes and I’m imagining all the various girls I’ve fucked over my short lifespan.

  Is it a lot? Sure. I won’t lie. But I’ve always taken care to be safe and I’ve always been honest with the girls. I’ve told them that I’m young. I’m not looking for anything permanent. Hell, I’m looking for one night. Maybe two if they’re really good and I’m in the mood. A week is the absolute max. Two weeks? Fuck that. After that, we’ll be friends, but they have to remember my motto: One and done.

  Sure when my cock is going in and out of them like it’s doing to Abby they nod their head and bite their tongue. But as soon as they cum? As soon as they recover from that amazing fuck? They’re getting all clingy. They’re making plans to go up to the Cape to meet their fucking parents. They’re renting hotel rooms in the middle of the afternoon where we can go and fuck.

  Listen, I don’t know what to say if you don’t believe me. Take a look at Abby right now, if you don’t think I’m telling you the truth. She’s going crazy, grunting and groaning like a fucking animal in heat. Her eyes are clouded up with fucking lust. Her hands are desperately trying to grab hold of something. Anything.

  She hits one of the phones along the side of the desk. I don’t know which one. But whatever, she actually feels pretty good. She’s a bit of a slut—at least that’s the word around the West Wing. She’s not tight. I’ll grant you that.

  “Oh baby, I’m going to fuck you so hard!” I tell her.

  Is it me or is she talking in a very low voice? I bend over closer to hear her without breaking my stride.

  “Oh unggggghh, baby, it’s so daaaa….good,” she moans again.

  I close my eyes, and go back to imagining the women I’ve been with. So much I’ve wanted to do with them.

  “Tell me how much you want it,” I tell her. I hold onto her hips and increase my tempo.

  “Oooohh,” Abby coos. “Eeeeee,” she pants. At least that’s what it sounds like. I haven’t opened my eyes yet. Just going by auditory impulses.

  “Tell me how much you fucking love my cock,” I say, getting closer and closer.

  “Khee bhol cho…” Abby says and I have no idea what she’s saying now, but I’m not going to lie – I’m not really paying attention. I’m maybe five seconds away from exploding. A veritable geyser of semen is going to shoot out from my mon
ster cock.

  “I’m going to cum all over your fucking face,” I grunt as I slow down my thrusts.

  “Kheee,” Abby says in a high pitch voice. She’s speaking garbage now. Unintelligible. But that’s just the effect I have on women.

  I finally open my eyes and look at her. Her eyes are wide and she’s looking back at me in fear.

  Three more strokes. Two. One.

  Fuck, no time to turn her around.

  I pull out and whip my condom off.

  “I’m gonna cum,” I say with a nasty sneer of pride.

  The door bursts open.

  I look up.

  It’s the President of the United States. He’s being followed by three Secret Service people.

  But its too late for me. I’m cumming. Bolts of lightning and electricity have seized my body and paralyzed my muscles. My nuts have tightened and twisted and I feel myself spurt. All over his daughter’s ass. I unload rope after rope of thick, viscous white cum on his daughter’s ass cheeks and lower back. Despite the fact that this 22-year-old First Daughter just got caught in the Oval Office with a White House Intern’s cock inside of her, and despite the fact that her eyes tell me she’s afraid of something, which has to be my cock because she can’t help but sigh in pleasure as thick, heavy spurts of hot jizz land on her lower back and ass.

  I grunt like a savage and start looking at my handiwork. The first shot hits the right ass cheek. I moan lewdly as I see it. I can’t help it. The second shot hits the left. The third rope hits her lower back and pools right above her ass before trickling down her thighs. The fourth shot hits right on her crack, dribbling downward. The fifth shot goes and smears the right ass cheek again.