by Alexis Angel
“It’s… so… good… so… fucking… good…” I moan between breaths, curling my fingers so tightly around the edge of the couch that my knuckles have turned white. The sound of his thighs hitting my ass fill his whole living room, and that’s the only sound my brain can process right now.
“We’re just starting,” he tells me, digging his fingers into my ass cheeks and thrusting so hard that I almost tumble over the edge of the couch. He keeps on thrusting like that, mercilessly, my body swaying back and forth as his cock goes in and out of me.
“Harder,” I find myself saying, and I almost laugh at my own stupidity. Harder? If he fucks me any harder than this, he’ll have to carry me out of his apartment in a wheelchair. But, instead of dismissing what I just said, he fulfills my request; grabbing me by the hips, he slams his body into mine, his cock stabbing my insides repeatedly.
My moans turn into one violent scream, my vocal chords working to exhaustion as the sound of my voice explodes in the air. Every single muscle in my body is tensing up like wire, and it feels like someone doused me in gasoline and then lit a match.
“Oh God!” I cry out, one lone tear streaming down my face as shards of pleasure prickle my muscles from the inside out. “I’m going to --” I start to say, but I don’t finish my sentence. Before that happens, a violent shiver goes up my spine and explodes in my brain. My muscles start to spasm and, losing all of the strength in my limbs, I bend over the couch and just hang there by my stomach as I come my brains out.
He keeps on thrusting as scream after scream leaves my throat, my voice growing raspy with each passing second. By the time he starts easing up his pace, I’m a quivering mess. He slides his cock out of my pussy and, somehow, I find enough strength in my arms to push myself up to my feet. What the hell was that? That wasn’t sex, that was… Something else entirely. Something better.
“You were telling the truth… I’m not going to forget this anytime soon,” I whisper as I turn around to meet his gaze.
“You’re an easy woman to please,” he grins. “There’s a whole lot more to show you,” he says, lowering his voice until it becomes a whisper. More? MORE? Oh God, have mercy on me.
“Then show me,” I say, and he takes one step toward me and picks me up from the floor, carrying my limp body in his arms, the ropes of muscles in his arms bulging. He walks across the living room and takes me to a closed door; he pushes it open with his shoulder, and I feel my insides clenching as I see the king-size bed dominating his bedroom.
He lays me down on the mattress and I just lie there, looking up at him as if it’s the first time I’m seeing him. Who is he, really? I thought that he was just another asshole too full of himself because he has abs, a pronounced chin, and a cock big enough to play baseball with. And, yeah, he’s all these things, but there’s more to him than meets the eye.
“There you are, thinking again,” he tells me, and I smile at his words.
“Make me stop then,” I say, reaching for his cock and curling my fingers around it. I start stroking him right away, but he just grabs my wrist and forces me to stop. I peel my fingers off of his shaft as he climbs on top of the bed and between my legs. Placing his hands on my knees, he spreads my legs wide and then pushes me on my shoulders until I’m lying down, and he’s on top of me.
Grabbing his cock by the root, he guides it home; I tremble slightly as I feel its tip once again over my pussy lips, and I cross my legs on his lower back as he starts sliding it in. He drives his cock as deep as he can, and I let out a rough scream as I feel my inner walls stretching to accommodate his massive length. It’s hard to wrap my mind around how big he is—well, my mind and my fingers. Even the characters in my books don’t have cocks like these.
“Oh, fuck, this is so good,” I say, making a mighty effort to open my eyelids. I look into his eyes, grinning as he rocks his body against mine. His cock goes in and out of me like a piston, and I keep my legs laced on his back just in case he wants to run away.
“You shouldn’t be surprised,” he tells me, smiling, and I notice a few drops of sweat glistening on his forehead. “I always mean what I say.” Well, I guess he’s right about that; he told me he’d show me a good fucking, and here I am now, having the best sex of my entire life.
My eyelids droop again as I feel that electric feeling raging inside me again; I take my fingers to his shoulder blades and, clawing at his hard muscles, I grit my teeth and prepare for what’s coming. That feeling rises from my pussy and travels all the way up to my brain, moving slowly and burning everything on the way up. It feels like there are a thousand needles prickling my skin, and all I want to do is scream until my vocal chords just give up and snap.
“Fuck,” I exhale, throwing my head back and rake my fingernails across his back hard enough to draw blood. I arch my back, fireworks going off behind my shut eyelids, and I scream loud enough to shatter glass. I keep on screaming as my pussy becomes tighter and tighter around his cock, my inner lips acting like a vice. Still, he keeps on pistoning into me until my voice becomes weaker than a faint breeze, my whole body suddenly becoming limp.
I collapse on top of the mattress, limbs sprawled to the side, and Aidan finally stops. He kneels between my legs, a devious grin on his face, and he looks into my eyes.
“How’s that for inspiration?” he asks me, and a weak smile dances on my lips. It might sound corny as hell, but after being with Aidan I think that my sex scenes are going to become way better than they've ever been.
“I definitely feel inspired,” I laugh gently, propping myself up on one elbow and reaching for his cock with one hand. Grabbing his thick shaft, I take a deep breath and then I start stroking him, my hand flying up and down over his length.
“Looks like it,” he groans, closing his eyes as I start moving even faster. Using my free hand, I cup both his balls and caress them, feeling them heavy and ready to unleash hell on me, which sounds exactly like what I want to happen.
“Come,” I whisper, looking into his eyes. “Come for me. Come over me,” I clarify, grinning like a madwoman. I don’t know if my words strike a chord, or if it’d happen anyway, but his cock spasms harshly against my fingers. Two mores strokes and his whole body tenses up, the deep lines between his abs becoming more pronounced as every muscle in his body seems to bulge.
“Fuck,” he groans again, a long strand of thick cum gushing out from the tip of his cock and hitting me right between my breasts. I keep on stroking him as he comes, and he unleashes a fountain of semen over my naked skin.
“Yes, that’s it,” I moan as I feel his juices dripping down my skin and making their way to between my thighs. Hell bent on stroking him until he’s done, I can’t stop myself from being amazed at the ungodly amount of cum he seems to hold inside his body. He gushes it into me like a fountain, painting me in white, and I feel my skin prickling as I feel his gooey strands coating my skin.
“Fuck,” he repeats, his cock spasming one final time against my fingers. A few drops drip from its tip and go over my knuckles, and I finally let go of his cock. I throw myself back, falling on top of the mattress and feeling completely exhausted. I’m breathing hard, looking up at the ceiling as my lungs strain against my ribcage, working tirelessly to make me feel like a regular human being again.
But he isn’t done. Not yet.
I look down my body as I feel his touch on my pussy, and my mind almost explodes as I see him with his head right between my thighs, his lips wrapped around my drenched folds. He uses his tongue to scoop whatever cum has made its way down there, and then he runs it up, licking my cum-coated skin. He comes up all the way to between my tits, and then takes a detour to my right nipple. Sucking on it, he circles my rosy tip once and then twice, and then moves back to my left one.
I pant as I feel the wet tip of his tongue on mine, suddenly feeling dizzy and lightheaded. I can’t believe we’re doing this. By the time he traces the contour of my chin with his tongue, my lips are already parted and waiting fo
r his kiss.
I tremble as I feel his lips on mine, the salty flavor of his cum flooding me. Pushing my tongue inside his mouth, I use it to wrestle against his, strands of cum dripping from his mouth and into mine. When I pull back from his kiss, my heart skips a beat as I notice the cum glistening in his lips. Is this really happening? Maybe I’m asleep and this is just a dream. But no, the soreness in my muscles tells me that this is very real.
Finally down, Aidan sighs loudly and rolls to the side, lying down on the mattress by my side. We just lay there, catching our breath and staring up at the ceiling as time passes us by.
Maybe this project with Aidan is exactly what I need to get back up on my feet. Or down on my knees; I’m not sure if after this I’ll be able to focus for the necessary amount of time to get some writing done.
8
Aidan
The window blinds have a kink in them, and in its space, a single blade of sunlight hits me right across the eyes, jolting me awake. I roll over and rub them with my fist, and then I see her—Abby.
She somehow looks even hotter than the night before … maybe it's because we're both still completely naked, or maybe it's the way her blonde hair cascades down across her shoulders and reaches the tip of one exposed breast. I can't help but smile. I normally don't stick around after I've fucked a woman, but Abby's … well, she's different. There isn't anything in me that is telling me to flee. No red flags. No panic button.
I tap my phone on and look at the time.
Fuck. It's already a quarter past 8, and I'm late for my Skype call with CJ. Sure enough, as soon as this realization dawns on me, my phone vibrates with an incoming text message.
"Where R U???"
It's CJ. Predictable. She's like clockwork.
You ever have someone that will just stay on your case until you do what they tell you to?
Yeah, that’s CJ.
Shit, I better get up.
"1 sec just grabbing coffee sorry I'm late," I text back.
I carefully pull the covers off of me, and try not to wake Abby. But looking back at her … her face, the outline of her body, those curves … makes my cock twitch. Not now, I tell myself. As much as I'd like to wake her for another round—a repeat of what we shared last night—I have work to take care of first. I need to think with the head on top of my two shoulders, not the head on my cock … as much as my body fucking thinks otherwise.
I grab my coffee and walk over to my computer, powering it up. I listen to it purr to life, and I launch the Skype app. With its signature whooshing sound, it pops on my screen. I find CJ's name and press the green call button. It buzzes for a bit and then she answers.
"Well, well, well, look who decided to show up," she chides me.
"I know ... you don't have to give me shit. I overslept."
"You look tired, but I have some news that might perk you up."
"What's that?" I ask, running my fingers through my hair and trying to smooth it down. I realize I probably look like a fucking mess right now on the screen. I didn't even have a chance to brush my hair before jumping online.
"I've hooked up with a photographer," she says smiling.
"Good for you; it's about time you've seen some action," I yawn. "How long's it been? A month? A year?"
"Not that kind of hook up—you savage. I mean that I've found us a good photographer. She calls herself Mistress Strokes."
"That's an interesting name."
"She's an equally interesting person—definitely the artistic type. She has blue hair and comes highly recommended," CJ says, grinning from ear to ear. I watch the screen as she pushes her own hair behind her ears. She always does that when she's excited.
"Great," I say, wondering if this is the reason why she wanted to meet with me this morning—just to tell me about some photographer. Like I really give a fuck who takes my picture.
"You should be thankful," she says. "It wasn't easy finding someone. Not a lot of photographers wanted to work with you. They were afraid you'd somehow sully their reputations."
"I don't really give a fuck what they think, CJ. You know that."
"Fair enough," she shrugs. "I do know that, but the good thing is that we don't need to worry about it anymore. By the way, how did your meeting with Abby Cleveland go last night?"
"It was um … well it … it went great," I say, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. I somehow wasn't expecting to field that question right off the bat, and I absently run my fingers through my hair again. CJ would flip if she knew the full truth.
She squints her eyes at me as if she's putting together two pieces of a puzzle and she's just found a match. "Hmm… you were up late last night, you overslept for our meeting this morning … where's Abby now?" CJ asks.
"Um … she's … well, she is—" I start to respond, but CJ cuts me off.
"You have to be kidding me Aidan! Not again. Are you freaking serious!"
"What? Why are you freaking out on me right now?" I shrug.
"You of all people should know by now that this won't end well. Has it ever?" she asks.
"Calm down; everything's fine."
"It's not fine! We can't afford to ruin a perfectly good relationship here. This is a good opportunity. And as your PA, I have to put it bluntly—she may be our last chance," CJ says, leaning back in her chair and looking up at the ceiling in exasperation.
"I fucking promise that's not what's going to happen here."
"Give me a break. That's what always happens."
"This time is different."
"Sure it is, just like the last time, and the time before that, right?"
But before I can answer her and tell her that in fact I never made that kind of promise with any of those other women, I hear a noise behind me.
I stop and swivel my chair around to take a look.
Then I see her.
It's Abby.
She's leaning in the doorway wearing nothing but my button-up shirt. It's big on her. She only has a few buttons clasped, and the shirt is hanging off her right shoulder.
"Morning," she purrs, parting her moist lips in a smile and sweeping her hair to one side.
I immediately want to run my fingers through her hair and pull her close. If I'm honest, there are a lot of things I'd like to do to her right now. I look at her smooth and slender bare legs, and the way the shirt just barely reaches her middle thighs.
"Aidan, are you still there?" CJ asks on the computer and I'm jolted back to reality.
"Yeah, sorry. I'm here, but listen, I've gotta go CJ."
"Aidan, wait, we need to—"
But before she can finish, I interrupt.
"Bye CJ—we'll talk again soon—promise," I blurt out and end our call in a swift click of a button. The screen, and CJ's face, vanishes.
Good.
I have way more important things to attend to.
I turn my attention back to the sexy goddess in the doorway.
"Good morning to you," I say, getting up from my chair and walking toward her.
This is going to be one hell of a morning, I smile to myself.
All I can tell you, babe, is I hope you’re not sitting in public as you’re reading this.
9
Abby
“What was that all about?” I ask him with a yawn, my eyes already roaming over his body. He’s shirtless, a pair of jeans the only clothing on his body. And thank God for that; there’s nothing better than to wake up to a view like that.
I stirred in my sleep the moment I heard his voice and, for a moment, I thought there was actually someone else in the apartment. But then I heard CJ talking, and I started noticing the slightly distorted sound of her voice. I lay in bed for a while, trying not to listen to the two of them, but then curiosity got the best of me and I ambled down the corridor to see what was going on. I stood there, just a few feet away from Aidan, listening CJ chiding him for sleeping with me. The worry in her voice was palpable; I knew that Aidan had a reputation, but judging by the
way CJ was talking I guess the rabbit hole goes deeper than I thought.
“Spying on me, are you?” he asks me as he swivels around in his chair. He gets up and comes up to me with a flicker in his eyes. “And stealing my clothes too.” His eyes roam up and down my body, and I can almost see the hunger growing there. This is going to be an interesting morning, alright.
I should be checking in with Cheryl; I had six missed calls from her this morning, but I knew she’d want to know about how the night ended, and I didn’t feel like talking about it while still inside Aidan’s apartment.
“Well, you stole my virginity, sir, so I guess it’s only fair,” I purr teasingly, pulling down on the hem of his shirt as if I was trying to hide my nakedness.
“Very funny, Abby,” he takes another step toward me, and I bite my lower lip as I feel my pulse speeding up hastily. I can’t believe that I’ve just woken up and I’m already as wet as an Olympic swimming pool.
“But, really, what was that all about?” I ask again, curiosity creeping over me. I mean, it’s not like we’ve entered a relationship, right? So why is CJ so worried about me spending the night here with Aidan?
“CJ worries,” he tells me. “A lot,” he then adds, exhaling and looking down as if he’s trying to look for the right words. “Look, you know I have a reputation.”
“A man that fucks like you do has to have a reputation,” I blurt out, feeling warm blood rushing to my cheeks. I can’t believe that I’ve just put it out like this, but it’s the truth nonetheless; you can’t become a god between the sheets without getting a reputation along the way, can you? It’s not like I expected him to be a choirboy.
“Well,” he shrugs, “I guess CJ is just worried… She doesn’t want me to fuck this up. Again.”
“Jesus, it’s not like you’re a complete fuck up, Aidan.”
“Yeah, tell that to all the authors and photographers that have me blacklisted,” he says unapologetically, turning away from me and sitting back down on his chair. He props his feet up on the desk and, lacing his arms behind his head, he leans back and sighs.
