by Amy Brent
“Fuck… baby… yes…” he moaned, hips moving, finger sliding. When I brought my right hand up to grab his cock he nearly exploded in my mouth.
I started sucking the head and milking the shaft. I slid my free hand down between us so I could reach my clit. I dipped my fingers between my cunt lips to wet them, then started sliding my finger over my clit as fast as it would go.
“God… yes…” Devin growled, gripping the headboard to keep his balance and to keep it from slamming the wall. He let me milk him for a moment more. I knew he was close to cumming and so was I. I could feel his cock growing even larger in my mouth as every ounce of blood in his body rushed to his crotch to join the party. Just when I thought he was ready to explode, he pulled back quickly and blew out a long breath.
“Not yet,” he said, climbing off me and moving to the side of the bed on his knees. He hooked his strong hands under my knees and turned me sideways like a rag doll so that my ass was at the edge of the bed and my legs were draped over his shoulders.
“Mmmm….” I said as he started massaging my clit between his thumbs. My clit hood was long, like a small uncircumcised cock. Devin loved to milk it and take the skin between his teeth and give it tender bites. I loved it when he pulled the clit hood back with his fingers to expose the little man in the boat and gave him a kiss, like he… was doing… fuck… now…
“God… feels… so good…” I sighed, bucking my ass against his mouth. He pressed his lips to the little pink nub and I felt the first orgasm exploding from my cunt like a tsunami hitting the shoreline. I arched my back and came hard, gushing a stream of clear juices over his face, soaking his chin. Devin opened his mouth and drank it up, like a thirsty kid at a water fountain.
“I love that so fucking much…” he said, licking his lips, moaning at the back of his throat.
“I love it, too…” I whispered, my body still shivering from the orgasm, my cunt hot, on fire, bubbling up again. Devin leaned down and lapped it up, then licked me clean like a cat grooming its kitten.
“Fuck me, baby,” I said. I looked down with pleading eyes, but the devious smile on his face told me he was not ready to quit playing with my pussy, at least not yet. That was one of the things that I loved about Devin. He took greater pleasure in making me happy than worrying so much about himself. Usually, by the time he shot his load, he had made me cum five or six times. I wondered if he kept count… I certainly did…
He pushed my thighs wider apart, then used his fingers to pull back my pussy lips so his tongue could find my hole. “Your pussy is so fucking beautiful…” he said, his tongue trailing along the edges of my lips. “It’s too beautiful to just fuck.”
“I’m… so glad… you like… it… but please… fuck it…”
“I don’t just like it,” he said, lowering his lips to my clit. “I fucking love it.”
I felt his tongue swirling around my hole. I came again, gushing, squirting, spraying, but it did not slow him down. Devin stiffened his tongue like a stubby cock and fucked me with it until I came again. And again. And again. By the time he was finished my body was limp as a rag and I didn’t know if I’d even be able to get up and go to work.
“What the fuck… are you doing… to me…” I asked. I didn’t realize that I was clutching my tits and squeezing my nipples so hard that they were turning purple while Devin was eating me out. I looked down to find my tits covered in red marks that perfectly fit my fingers.
“That’s exactly what I’m doing to you,” he said, pushing himself up on his muscular arms. I watched him with bated breath as he stood up for a moment and started stroking his cock. “It this what you want? You want this big cock inside your tight little box?”
“Yes,” I said, my voice pleading with him. I held up my knees and spread my legs. I put my finger tips on my pussy lips and parted them for him. “Please… Dev… don’t make me beg… fuck me… fuck me hard… now…”
“Okay,” he said with a broad smile. He lowered himself on to me, the bulbous head of his cock pressing to my hole. He braced my legs against his chest and held my ankles at his shoulders. I held my breath and prayed for him not to stop. My pussy stretched to let his plum head slide inside me.
“Oh… yeah… that’s it…” I went back to roughly massaging my tits and pulling on my nipples, clamping them between my fingers. “More… baby… give me more…”
His thick cock slid inside me an inch at a time. My wet pussy hole and lips suctioned around the shaft. I could feel his heart beating inside me.
“More…” I said, feeling him come in another inch, then another. When the tip of his cock pressed to my cervix, I exhaled deeply. “Now… lift me up… fuck me hard… like I like it…”
We’d done this little trick before and it was one of my favorite positions because the head of Devin’s cock came inside at such an angle that it bounced against my G-spot, making me cum like a bursting dam.
He held on tight to my ankles and lifted my ass up. The only part of my body touching the bed was my shoulders and the back of my head. The rest of me was lifted up, my legs high in the air, with Devin’s long cock hammering into my box.
“Yes…” I moaned as he thrust in and out, rolling over my clit, ramming headfirst into my G-spot, his balls slapping at my ass. “Fuck me… Dev… hard… harder… harder… oh jeez fuck …”
I could hear Devin grunting like a wild animal as he thrust his hips in and out, ramming his hard cock inside my soft, wet cunt like a derrick drilling for oil. My hands were on my tits, squeezing, pinching. Devin looped his arms under my knees and pulled my legs apart so he could go even deeper inside me.
I could feel the fire bubbling up from deep inside me, like lava flowing upward from deep in the ground, making its way to the mouth of the volcano so it could erupt into the air. My entire body was on fire. Sweat covered my face and chest. My tits were slippery with it.
“Oh… fuck…” Devin growled. I glanced up at him. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut. He was gritting his teeth. His beautiful face was bathed in sweat. I watched sweat stream down his neck and the line at the center of his chest. Every muscle in his upper body was pumped up. Veins ripped across his shoulders and neck. His nipples where hard, like little red stones. I longed to nip them between my teeth.
“I’m cumming…” he said, the thrusts of his hips getting faster now, his cock going in so deep it jarred my body.
“Cum baby…” I said. I was there, too, right on the brink. The lava had reached the mouth of the volcano and was ready to blow sky high.
“Shit…” Devin growled. “Yes… fuck… yessss.”
Every muscle in his body tensed as he rammed as far into me as he could go, slamming into my G-spot, sending wave after wave or electricity coursing through my body. He grunted like a wild animal and pulled my legs to him.
“Cum on me,” I said desperately as my pussy started overflowing. “I want to see it… I want to see you cum…”
Devin pulled his cock from my pussy and started rubbing it against my pussy lips and clit. I marveled at the sight of his cock as it slid back and forth, all oily and purple and glistening with my cum.
The head was dark and the size of a plum. When he came, he thrust his hips forward and stayed there, shooting great ropes of milky goo all over my stomach and tits.
I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue just as a large dollop reached my face. I licked it away just as my own orgasm shuddered through me.
Devin was still holding my knees in the air with his cock resting on my pussy. When I came, I came hard, gushing, squirting my juices in the air like a pink water fountain.
Devin closed his eyes and sighed and rubbed his cummy cock over my twat as I drenched us completely. When it was over, we were both a hot gooey mess.
He looked at me and smiled.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Yes,” I said, stretching out my arms and licking my lips. “It certainly is.”
Filthy Boss
CANDICE CARLSON:
Men are douchebags! I’m sorry, but there’s just no other way to put it and they can’t deny it. They only want one thing from us, girls. Then, just as you’re about to give it to them, they dump you like a hot rock because their mommy says you’re not good enough for their little boy. Seriously, bitch? I’ll show you not good enough with my fist in your nose.
Then I get assigned to work for Tanner Wright, the bad boy billionaire CEO who thinks his money, good looks, and big bulge in his jeans can get him whatever he wants. And what he wants at the moment is to get into this girl’s pants. What he doesn’t know is, that’s a place where no man has gone before.
The guy’s a billionaire douchebag and I’m a reluctant virgin. That combination could make for a very interesting workplace, indeed.
TANNER WRIGHT
It’s a lot of pressure, living up to a reputation like mine. You just try being a billionaire bad boy CEO for a week and see how you handle things. I’ll bet you end up in the press more than I do!
When you have the looks, money, charm, and bedroom skills that I have, the world is your oyster. So many mansions to buy, exotic cars to drive, yachts to captain, and so many women to… well… you know what the ladies want from Mr. Wright.
So, when Candice Carlson is assigned to work on a project for my company, it’s only fitting that I give her a shot at the brass ring. She’s young and brilliant and beautiful. And there’s something mysterious about her that draws me to her like a moth to a flame.
She can try to resist all she wants, but when Tanner Wright wants something, you can bet the bank that he will get it; one way or another.
CHAPTER ONE: Candice Carlson
I was sitting at my desk munching on a take-out salad from the cafeteria downstairs, when the email from my boss came through. I glanced at the large computer monitor sitting to my left, but didn’t bother opening the email. I already knew what it was.
I had been expecting the email since earlier in the day when my boss told me that our company, Goldman & Stern Management Consultants, had won a ten-million-dollar management consulting contract with Wright Enterprises, and that I would be one of the management consultants on the team.
I chewed a mouthful of lettuce and leaned over to read the subject line: Confirmation of Meeting Scheduled with Tanner Wright at Wright Enterprises.
I clicked the link that would automatically add the meeting details to my electronic schedule and went back to eating my salad.
A year ago, I would have been jumping up and down at the thought of meeting with billionaire entrepreneur, Tanner Wright, and his team. Now, this would be just another in a long line of boring meetings with rich douchebags who used Goldman & Stern’s management consultants – like me -- to do their dirty work.
Wow, sometimes I was amazed at how tarnished I had become in just one short year at Goldman. I don’t remember what I expected this job would be, but this wasn’t it.
Still, it was better than slaving away at a non-profit for twenty-grand a year. That was more fulfilling, but this allowed me to buy a lot cooler stuff.
I sighed as I stabbed a cherry tomato and bit it in half with my front teeth. I had already Googled Tanner Wright in anticipation of the meeting. Not that I didn’t already know who he was. Everyone in business knew who Tanner Wright was because he was the stuff of legend.
Thirty-five years old, single, tall, dark, and handsome; with the build of an athlete and the brain of a Rhodes Scholar.
He started Wright Enterprises as a little computer fix-it service in his parents’ basement fifteen years ago, and the company did six billion in revenue last year.
Wright was in to everything now: from computing to networking to cyber-security software to fiber optics. But it took more than generating a ton of revenue for a guy to impress me these days. In my mind, I already had him pegged as just another billionaire playboy who thought he could buy the world and everyone in it.
I took a sip of the watery iced tea that came with the salad and looked out the twentieth-floor window at the hazy Chicago skyline.
“I’ll bet he’s a major douchebag,” I heard myself say.
I couldn’t help it.
Whenever I thought about men these days the word “douchebag” automatically came to mind.
In fact, the word “douchebag” was becoming synonymous with the word “man” in my mind.
Man, douchebag.
Douchebag, man.
Call me jaded, but in my mind, they were one and the same.
I took another bite of the lettuce and munched as I sighed. Why do men have to be such douchebags, I wondered. Aren’t there any good men left in the world? Surely, they’re not all gay or married.
Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating just a little bit. Maybe not all men on planet earth are douchebags. Maybe it’s just the males of the species that I have personally met over my twenty-four years on the planet were douchebags.
They didn’t all start out that way, of course. Some of them were perfectly nice in the beginning. They seemed to evolve into douchebags after they met me. Maybe that was it. Maybe I was the common denominator. Maybe I took perfectly nice guys and turned them into total douchebags. I was patient zero!
I licked the dressing from my lips and reached for the tea. Maybe that was my special power, I thought. I had the power to turn perfectly nice guys into douchebags.
Nah. Who am I kidding.
I don’t have special powers.
Men are quite capable of becoming douchebags all on their own.
They certainly didn’t need any influence from me.
The most recent douchebag in my life was my ex-boyfriend, Scott, who dumped me after dating for five years because his mother didn’t think I was good enough for him.
He actually said those words to me.
“I’m sorry, Candice, but Mother doesn’t think you’re good enough for me.”
“I’m not marrying your mother, Scott,” I shot back. “The question is, what do you think?”
The prick didn’t hesitate. He looked me dead in the eye and said, “I think Mother is probably right.”
And with that, he turned and walked out the door and never looked back.
I was like, are you kidding me, mother f*cker?
I’ve dated your douchebag ass since freshman year at college, saved my virginity for our wedding night, and two months before the wedding, I’m not good enough for you?
Seriously?
F*ck you!
And f*ck your mother!!!
I felt my cheeks getting hot. Even though it’s been over a year since Scott dumped me, it still makes me fume.
Granted, I didn’t come from money like Scott’s family did. The Carlson family was lower middle class at best, but I worked my ass off to get through college and then graduate school. I graduated with an MBA from Harvard last year and was recruited by Goldman & Stern to join their management consulting group before the ink on my diploma was dry.
I have a windowed-office in a Chicago high-rise, and pulldown one-fifty a year plus bonuses. I have a killer apartment downtown, and am on the fast track to make partner within five years. And I’m not good enough for your piece of shit son?
Again, dear mother, f*ck you!
I frowned at my own thought. I never used to cuss like this. Granted, this conversation is only going on in my head, but now I have the vocabulary of a drunken sailor.
And I blame it on Scott and his mommy.
Scott said his mommy thought I was a bad person. She didn’t like the way I treated her little boy.
Fine. Whatever. Sure, I can be a little abrasive at times, and maybe I bossed Scott around a bit, but come on, the guy could barely wipe his own ass without mommy’s help.
If he didn’t have me telling him what to do he would have spent most of his days bouncing through life like a pinball.
Not good enough for your son.
F*ck yo
u, you old bat.
Your son wasn’t good enough for me!
I chewed on a chunk of lettuce and scolded myself for even thinking about this stuff. I mean, it had been over a year since I last saw Scott. Why was this still sticking in my craw?
And why didn’t I want anything to do with men in general now?
Had Scott scarred me for life?
Was I destined to be an old maid?
Or maybe a lesbian?
Hmm, no, I didn’t swing that way.
At least not yet…
I was young, healthy, and horny as the next girl. The fact that I was still a virgin irked me a bit. After all, the whole “saving myself for Mr. Right” crap flew out the window the day Scott dumped me. I’d jump Mr. Wrong’s bones if given the chance.
It’s not that I haven’t had opportunities to have sex. Jesus, you can’t walk down the hallway here at Goldman & Stern without running into a swinging dick. It’s just that I don’t want to be bothered by a man at this point in my life.
And as I said, men are douchebags.
I’d never had a cock inside of me, so maybe I didn’t know what I was missing. But I had long, nimble fingers and the foot-long vibrating dildo I bought online that I called “George Clooney”. George was always waiting for me in my nightstand. What the heck did I need a man for?
