24 Inches: A MFM Romantic Comedy

by Alexis Angel

  Apparently Lana takes this movement to indicate that I'm on the same page that she's on. Luckily, she is much quicker than I am, but I'm preparing to be angry, and she quickly turns around so that she's on her hands and knees directly in front of me.

  "Cum in this hole,” she says before lunging forward and taking my entire cock into her mouth. So much for the “never go ass-to-mouth” rule. Without waiting for an invitation Lana starts rocking back and forth, stroking my shaft with her lips.

  The sensation feels nice, but it's not the same.

  “Are you going to fuck my face or not?” she snaps, letting my cock fall free of her lips. I must not be keeping pace. "Grab the back of my head and fuck my throat. I want to gag on that giant cock until you cum down my throat.”

  That will pretty much make up for it. I might've been a bit slow on the up-take this time, but now that she has explained what she wants I don’t hesitate. I grab the back of her head, getting a firm grip on her hair. Using all the strength in my arm and all the momentum I can get from my hips, I ram my cock into her mouth. I feel my shaft bend down following the arc of her throat.

  Her body rebels against the sudden insertion. Her throat muscles spasm in succession around my shaft. I watch her back arch as I pull back on her head. Thick strings of saliva cling to her lips and my cock stretches as I pull back. Her eyes roll up in her head to meet mine. Tears streak down her face. I might have been tempted to stop, but the message in those eyes was clear. She wanted this, truly wanted this.

  I ram my cock back into her mouth. Once again, my cock bends and her throat contracts. This time I don’t pull back. Instead, I reinstitute the short, jabbing strokes. Each time I push into her face her body jerks and her throat contracts. Lana makes a high keening sound as I pound into her throat.

  Her hair whips around wildly as I continue to fuck her face so that it is wrapped around my head. I pull back on her hair letting my cock come completely out of her mouth. Again the thick strings of saliva stretch between us. She sucks in frantic breaths. I give her a moment to catch up. The tightening of my grip on her hair is a signal that we are about to start again.

  “Cum in my mouth. Keep fucking my face until you unload, “ she pants out before I ram my cock back down her throat. Just like with her ass and pussy, I switch up my thrusting, pulling back until only the head of my cock is in her mouth before roughly ramming it back into her.

  The dominance I feel over her reignites the building of the coming orgasm inside me. As the urge to unload my balls grows closer, my strokes shorten once again. Lana makes the high-pitched noise as her body continues to convulse against what is happening to her.

  I pull my cock free, giving her a chance to catch her breath one more time. “Do it,” is all she says before I feel, through my hand tangled in her hair, her push forward. My hand catches up and her face slams into my body. I can feel her nose pressed against me as my hips add a little more insistence.

  Her throat squeezes tightly around the head of my cock. Her lips feel like a vice around the base of my shaft. Her arching back changes the angle. Fuck, I'm so close.

  A few more short thrusts and I feel my body reacting. The flood of cum is unstoppable. Her involuntary noise vibrates through my cock. I feel my balls tighten and then my hips thrust forward seemingly on their own as the cum rushes through me one more time. Lana’s body shivers with objections as my cum explodes into her throat. Crashing waves of pleasure erupt out of my cock. I can feel my own cum surrounding the head of my cock as she struggles to force it down. My fingers locked tight into her hair, holding her face against my body.

  The cum stops flowing but I don’t release her. I keep my cock buried in her until her body finally calms down. My cock is starting to soften before I allow my hips to pull back. The thick strings mix and twist with the white strings of my cum, again, stretching between us with some breaking and falling to the floor.

  Lana sucks in air greedily causing her body to heave. I allow myself to fall back, landing on the seat and running along the side of the cabin of the limo. I pant for breath as I watch her recover. After a few moments her hand reaches up. One delicate finger gathers up the lost strings of cum from her chin. She sticks the finger in her mouth, securing her lips around her now glistening skin before pulling the finger back to reveal that it's perfectly clean. She finishes the move with a very satisfied noise.

  Leaning back on her calves she smiles at me. The Cheshire Cat grin of hers splitting her reddened face. The expression is a stark counter-point to the streaks of mascara running down her cheeks.

  “There are very few men in this world who really know how to fuck a woman,” she says running her fingers through her hair. “That is why I write about them.”

  “How is this better than having my cum running down your legs?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.

  “These things work very well as a mirror,” she states, turning her attention to her own reflection in the glass of the partition. “You can head to the hotel now,” she informs the driver by lowering the glass just a little. The driver’s “yes ma’am” cuts off as she raises the partition and focuses on fixing her appearance.

  “Do you always fuck like that?” I ask, not really sure what else to say and instead letting my thoughts fall out of my mouth unchecked.

  “You’d better put these back on,” Lana says grabbing my pants from the floor of the limo and tosses them at me. “Not normally. Finding a man who is willing to fuck like this is really hard. Like I said, that is why I write about men that fuck women like that. I have to get the frustrations out somehow.” She still has that grin on her face.

  “Is there anything else you want to do?” the wording sounds lame, but apparently there is no corralling my curiosity post-orgasm.

  She looks at me with a lascivious grin.

  “Maybe round two?”

  11

  Logan

  Alright, it’s time to fucking shine, I think to myself as I press the elevator button that leads onto the floor where the Naughty Angel offices are.

  I don’t really want to do this, you know? But do I have any fucking choice? No, I don’t. That asshole Grady has made sure of that. I either do his bidding or I might as well start looking for a new job. And I like what I do, thank you very much. You don’t expect me to start working as a personal trainer or some shit like that, do you?

  So, yeah, it’s not like I have a choice, but to convince that Lana girl to sign with Bad Boy Publishing. I don’t know her, but I already feel bad for her, signing with Grady is worse than signing with the fucking devil himself. But, you know… it’s a dog-eat-dog world, and a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.

  When the elevator doors swing open, I step right outside. The whole floor is wide and spacious, and I can see dozens of imposing sleek desks lined between a huge glass panel with the Naughty Angel Publishing logo engraved on it. In front of that panel, is a wide counter with a young man sitting behind it, the receptionist. I make my way toward him and lean against his desk casually. The receptionist looks like he’s in his early twenties, long hair to his shoulders, and he’s wearing a suit. By the looks of it, he’s an intern, but he’s the gatekeeper all the same.

  “Hey, man, do you know where I can find Lana?” I ask him, and he raises his head and eyes me suspiciously.

  “Lana Hartley, the staff writer?” he asks me, narrowing his eyes slightly. I think that he’s recognizing me, which is only natural… I mean, who wouldn’t fucking recognize me? I’m a fucking legend.

  “That’s the one.”

  “Yeah, she’s right there,” he says and waves casually behind him, pointing at a girl sitting at a desk in the middle of the floor. She’s tapping at her keyboard at a furious pace, her look of concentration making her face shine.

  “That… one?” I whisper, suddenly losing my train of thought. The girl the receptionist is pointing at is fucking beautiful. I hope that you noticed I didn’t say she was hot or some shit lik
e that—no, I really wanted to say beautiful. Yeah, she’s hot as well, but… Fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone like this.

  Now, I don’t believe in love at first sight, but I do believe in boners at first sight. And if I’m not careful right now, I’m going to be popping one soon enough.

  “That one,” the receptionist replies, but I’m no longer paying any attention to what he’s saying. I’ve already walked past him, my feet carrying me toward that fucking beautiful angel.

  “Lana?” I call her cautiously, and the sound of her fingers on the keyboard stops immediately. She raises her eyes from the computer screen and looks at me, surprise taking over her face. Her cherry lips are slightly parted, and they look like they’ve been designed with only one intent: kissing.

  “Uh, that’s me,” she tells me, tucking a lock of hair over her ear. My heart skips a beat at that simple but elegant movement, and I feel my cock twitch inside my pants. Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with me?

  “Good, I’ve been looking for you,” I say, trying to act like my usual confident self. Without asking for permission, I steal an empty chair from an adjoining desk and sit across from her.

  “Looking for me? Why?” she asks me, and her surprise is genuine. She has absolutely no idea that some powerful people have set their sights on her. Poor girl.

  “That's right. What are you working on?” I wave casually at her screen, and her eyes dart to whatever she was writing there.

  “Uh, it’s a … it’s a romance novel,” she replies hesitantly. “A dark romance novel,” she then corrects herself, and then offers me one shy smile.

  “The Virgin Market, right?” I ask her, and her eyes widen with surprise once more. She wasn’t expecting me to know this much. “That’s right. I know about it, and that’s the reason I’m here.”

  “You’re here because of my manuscript?” Her jaws drops slightly, and she leans back against her chair as if she hadn’t heard what I just said. I can tell that she’s struggling to keep her eyes on my face, but that’s something I’m already used to. Women always want to devour me with their eyes; it’s just part of the job. Which, right now, is fair enough… I mean, I’m devouring her with my own eyes as we speak.

  “That’s what I said. I’ve heard you’re still looking for a publisher and, you know, I’d like to learn more about it … might be we could collaborate in the future.”

  “You’re … Logan Sanders, aren’t you?”

  “The one and only,” I smile, reaching across her desk and offering her my hand. She shakes it hesitantly, and my cock twitches inside my pants once more as I feel her fingertips brushing gently against the palm of my hand. Fuck, I’d give a lot of money to feel these fingers wrapped tight around my cock. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Nice meeting you too,” she smiles, and I can tell that she’s already relaxing a little. There’s that dazed smile on her face, but that’s normal. Women love me, you know?

  “I thought you’d be older,” I find myself saying, my brain momentarily shutting down. Usually I’m a quick thinker, but sitting across from a woman like Lana, it seems that my brain is working at a slower pace.

  “Older?”

  “Yeah, sorry. I just wasn’t expecting you to be this…” Fuck, why the hell am I saying all this shit? I almost told her I didn’t expect her to be this fucking hot and beautiful. Luckily, I still have time to correct myself. “Young. I didn’t expect you to be this young. I’ve heard good things about your book, and I never expected someone so young to be able to write something so… impressive.”

  “Thank you,” she replies, a pale crimson color taking over her cheeks. Fuck, the way she blushes is intoxicating.

  “I can’t wait to lay my hands on it.”

  “On what?” she asks me and, for a moment, I think of everything but her book. Right now, I just want to lay my hands on her face and pull her mouth closer to mine. I want to feel her perky breasts pressed against my chest, and I want to take in her scent as I brush my lips over the smooth skin of her neck…

  “Your manuscript,” I tell her, my lips suddenly turning dry. Okay, I got to chill the fuck out or else I’m going to blow this. I’m here to make her sign with Bad Boy Publishing, not to charm her. Right now, I need to be thinking with my brain instead of my cock.

  Lucky for me, I can think with both at the same time.

  “I’d love to read it,” I continue, lowering my voice and leaning slightly toward her. “What do you say? You could come over to my place and we could talk about it some more.”

  Look, I know. This is a fucking risky play I’m doing. But this is how I fucking operate. And, judging the silly grin on her face… this is going to work.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” I hear someone say, and I don’t even need to turn around to know who it is. I’d recognize that voice anywhere. Anders fucking Carter, once again raining on my fucking parade.

  With a sigh, I turn around in the chair and face him, and there he is, looking at me as if he had just seen Satan himself.

  Ah, fuck.

  12

  Anders

  "What are you doing here?" Lana says, looking at me with a surprised expression on her face. Her eyes grow wide. But Logan doesn't give me any time to answer.

  Instead, he cuts in. "What the fuck am I trying to do?" Logan scoffs. "I can't believe you even asked me that. I think the better question is, what the fuck are you trying to do? And yeah, Lana's right, why are you even here? Who sent you an invitation?"

  I'd like to hit him. I really would. But instead, I take a deep breath because honestly, that would be too easy.

  "Quit trying to pretend you're here out of the kindness of your heart," I growl, holding his gaze. His eyes flash at me like pieces of steel, hard and cold, but if he thinks he can intimidate me, he's lost his fucking mind.

  Not a fucking chance.

  Logan laughs. "You think you have a VIP access to this office or something, where only you're permitted?"

  He's mocking me, but I answer him in a serious tone. "No, I think I'm here on business, which of course you know nothing about," I say, unconsciously balling one hand into a fist and shoving it into my pocket.

  If it wasn't contained in my pocket, I don't know what would happen. I might do something I'd regret.

  With my fist in my pocket, my rage is contained. It's safer that way.

  "You can go ahead and play the high and mighty card all you want," Logan smiles, "but it's getting old. You need to find something new to grab onto."

  I look over at Lana. She's standing there, more beautiful than ever, and I say, "Lana has already promised to work with me. We made a deal."

  A new emotion registers on her face.

  It washes over her like a wave over sand, smoothing out the landscape below it, so you hardly recognize what it once was.

  Is it anger on her face? Is it confusion? Is it surprise? I can't tell, but I know it somehow isn't good.

  "Excuse me?" she blurts out. "This is my manuscript we're talking about. Let's not forget that. And this is my body. I'll repeat that. My body. And don't look at me like that. You two have both been eye fucking me from the moment you entered the office."

  We both turn to her, with blank looks on our faces because we aren't used to hearing her talk like this, and then she turns to me.

  "I haven't promised you a goddamn thing, Anders. So, you can go crawl back into whatever fantasy world you were living in."

  "But—Lana," I say, and she cuts me off, refusing to let me finish that thought.

  "I'm serious, Anders. This is non-negotiable."

  "But you can't go with Logan," I say, "You just can't." And I watch as Logan stands up from his chair, and cocks one eyebrow, shaking his head at the accusation.

  "I can't?" she says, turning to me again, and emphasizing the word 'can't.' "And why is that, hmm?"

  "You just can't," I say.

  "I'm gonna need more than that," she says, placing both hands on her hi
ps and letting out a truncated laugh. "You just standing here telling me I can't do something isn't enough to convince me. In fact, it just pisses me off. The word 'can't' isn't even a part of my vocabulary."

  I shift on my feet, and think before responding.

  I'm in murky waters now, and I need to fucking tread carefully.

  I didn't want to do this.

  I didn't want to go down this path, and throw Logan under the bus, but he's leaving me no choice.

  Now I have to. My back is up against the fucking wall like a fucking caged animal.

  "Because," I say, pausing before continuing. "He's really a bad guy."

  As soon as those words leave my lips, I wish I would've said it differently. Maybe have given an example. Because now it sounds pathetic. But I didn't say those things when I should've. And now it's too late.

  Lana and Logan stare at me.

  Then Lana looks to Logan, and I see a smirk form across his face.

  "Nice one," Logan laughs. "Is there anyone else in this office you'd like to lodge a complaint about me with?"

  Lana turns and looks back at me, and I scowl.

  This isn't turning out how I had planned.

  An awkward hostility is growing.

  "He doesn't look like a bad guy," she smiles, stepping closer to Logan.

  I know exactly where she's going with this. And I don't like it.

  A fierce competitiveness boils up in my veins. In my very core.

  "You don't know him," I say, and this time, Logan lets out an audible laugh. It seems to come up from the pit of his stomach and it makes Lana laugh too, like some infectious virus has jumped from one person to the other.

  "Laugh all you want, but I'm serious," I say.

  "This guy?" she says, pointing at Logan. "This blue-eyed, chiseled, teddy bear?"

  Logan smiles. I can tell he likes where this is going. The tide has turned in his favor, and my stomach sinks at this realization.