by Alexis Angel
45
Ashley
It’s a pleasant evening and I look out toward the Hudson River from where Arsen and I are sitting at dinner. We’re at an outdoor restaurant called Southwest New York that serves Tex-Mex near the South Street Seaport. With our table literally right next to the water, it's been a pleasant evening.
I look at Arsen. He’s staring back at me.
God, he’s so freakin hot. I swear, just staring into his smoldering eyes is enough to get my panties wet. The way those eyes seem to look into my soul. The way that face is shaped—it’s so lean and tight. And then there’s that body. You’ve heard me go on and on about his body before, I know, but it’s so good it’s worth saying again and again. If I could, I’d tell everyone I know. I mean, I wouldn't tell my Dad or anything, but aside from him, I’d shout from the rooftops how much I enjoyed Arsen’s bulging biceps, his 8-pack abs that are oh so defined, his powerful legs, his wonderful pecs, or his strong back.
But while his body is great to run my hands over and lick, I think what is completely unforgettable is basically that 12-inch cock that dangles from his legs. When that thing gets hard, I can barely wrap my hands around it. It’s as thick as my wrist. And it's so painfully delicious when it stretches my insides out.
“What are you thinking?” Arsen asks me, reaching across the table and taking my hand. I can see the tattoos go up and down his arm. “Tell me.”
I take his hand and smile at him. I’ve never had a man sit across from dinner and ask me what I’m thinking. To take an interest the way that Arsen has.
He’s wealthy, cute, and considerate.
How is it that I'm not head over heels in love with this guy?
I can’t believe I’m sitting here complaining to you about this. I must sound like the world’s most spoiled girl or something.
But it’s true; I can't say that I’m in love with Arsen. And I know the one major reason for that.
Henry. Client 5.
It’s been two days since the last time we spoke at noon. Two days since I’ve heard his powerful, commanding voice. A voice that basically says fuck the world—these are his rules and you can either obey them or get off the bus. Two days since he basically made me his over the phone.
Do you want to know something? I haven't told anyone yet, because I’ve kept it a secret.
Two days ago, when we were together on the phone, when he told me he wasn’t going to let me touch myself, I got so turned on just listening to himself telling me what I could or couldn't do. When he forced me to call him “sir” or “master” or "king," and started telling me to imagine Lower Manhattan and imagine his cock and how it would feel to have him plunge into and out of me, I swear to God I was dripping wet. I was panting. I could tell my heart rate had increased just from hearing his voice.
But that’s not what I have to tell you.
What I have to tell you is this. As I got him off with my words, it was turning me on like nothing else too—to the point where listening to my words and the effect it was having on him was only making me hungry to hear more. When he finally came, my body was a quivering mess. I hadn’t been allowed to touch myself and it was like desire was overwhelming every aspect of my body.
When King Henry finally let me touch myself, I desperately brought my fingers to my clit underneath my panties. And it took me maybe five seconds and three flicks before I exploded.
That’s what I wanted to tell you. That’s what I’ve been thinking about for the last 48 hours. What kind of a man can get me so keyed up, so on the brink already, that it took absolutely nothing to push me over the edge?
It’s like he can make me cum with just the sound of his voice.
You’re probably shaking your head at me. Thinking I’m just a stupid little girl, but I swear to God, I honestly think that if he wanted to, he could get me to cum just by talking to me.
But it's not just about cumming. He said something to me the last time we talked. He talked about how his Dad would take him out to the Empire State Building to give him a view of the city. Telling him that anything was possible. It sounds almost like…
“It’s like you’re a million fucking miles away,” Arsen says again and I snap back to reality.
I shake my head and smile at him.
“I was just thinking about work,” I tell him, squeezing his hand. I don’t want to lie to Arsen. I don’t want to throw away what I have with him. Because it's good. He’s a good man. He may have been a bad boy before this, but I know he’s trying for my sake to rein it in.
We haven’t had the conversation yet about being exclusive. And I’m glad. Because as much as I like Arsen, I can’t explain it but my mind keeps going back to Client 5. To Henry.
“You mean the guys who call in to talk to you?” Arsen asks and gets up.
We’ve finished dinner and decide to take a walk down the waterfront. It’s a nice evening and the water is peaceful.
“I have maybe about 6 regulars who call in,” I tell him as I grab his hand and squeeze it reassuringly.
I may not be completely sure about Arsen, but he’s here, with me, right now. The sex is phenomenal. I would have never imagined sex could be this good before I met him. And he’s kind, considerate, and open. I don’t want to lose him because of Henry, who I’ve never met.
But I’m still looking forward to the Client 5 call I have penciled in for tomorrow morning.
“Well, you’re regulars probably see you the same way I do,” Arsen says, looking at me. “They probably know a girl like you doesn't come by every day and they’re doing whatever they can to hold onto you.”
It’s like he’s not jealous at my job at all, and that’s the surreal part. Does he know that my words are supposed to get other men’s cocks hard? That I tell them the nastiest things I can think of so that these men shoot loads of cum all over themselves? That even more than porn, the act of talking dirty over the phone is perhaps the most intimate one can get before actually having sex in person?
“It’s such a nice night tonight,” I say out loud, trying to change the subject.
Arsen looks around, and humors me with a smile. “Ever since they finally finished construction around the Freedom Tower, this area has gotten a lot nicer without so much construction,” he says to himself.
“Did you follow the construction or something?” I ask him. “I’ve never really had strong opinions on it one way or other.”
He sighs. “I’ve always wanted to build things,” he says out loud, more to himself than anyone. “I just never got the chance.”
I’m silent for a moment, but I think about Arsen. A son who wanted to do so much, but raised by his father in a completely different way and now managing reluctantly a family business he wanted no part of.
I squeeze his hand. “Well, soon you’ll have sold everything your Dad left you, and you’ll be able to spend your time the way you want to,” I tell him as we slow down and he faces me. “Maybe you can go build a building somewhere somehow.”
Arsen looks at me as I smile at him. I’m trying to make my face look cute. He breaks into a bittersweet smile and takes a step closer.
“I want to spend that time with you,” he tells me and I can feel his breath on my face.
I want him to wrap his arms around me and pull me close to him. To hold me and never let me go. I want to squirm against his body, feel his cock grow hard. I want it to poke into my crotch. I want to feel it against my ass. I want to boil his blood with my body. To tempt him. To tease him.
All that may happen with this kiss.
But then, there’s always going to be Client 5 in the back. Because no matter what I do with Arsen tonight, no matter how many ways I give myself to him—no matter how much I let him own me, in the morning I’ll be rushing out the door to take the call from Client 5.
Arsen brings his face down to meet mine.
And I take a step back.
He looks at me with concern and tears start to come down my eyes.
There’s only one thing for a lady to do in this situation.
I turn around and start to run away.
46
Arsen
What the fuck just happened? I say something nice—and true—and she bolts on me? And crying! I look in astonishment as she runs down the sidewalk, my body frozen by surprise. Wake up, Arsen! I can’t let her go like that!
I start running down the street, my feet flying over the pavement as I close in on her. Her heels are clicking, the sound getting louder with each step I take. Then she looks over her shoulder and, realizing I’m following after her, cuts into a dark alley.
What the hell is she thinking? Running into a dark and deserted place like that this late? Now I really can’t let her go.
I reach for her, my fingers curling around her wrist as I pull her in. She turns to me, her makeup slightly smeared from the tears. With one hand around her waist I take the other one to her face and brush her cheeks gently.
“What were you thinking, Ashley? You can’t wander away like that, it’s dangerous,” I say, waving at the deserted alley, the pale lights of the street barely reaching us.
She says nothing, her wide eyes staring into mine as if she truly doesn't know what to say. My heart is beating like a motherfucker, making my bones rattle. I can’t lose her! Fuck, I can’t even believe I’m saying this—me, Arsen fucking Hawke. But it’s true… I can’t stand the thought of losing her. I need to say something, to make whatever hesitancy she holds inside her heart go away… But, just like her, I can’t find the words.
She’s breathing hard now, her body so close to mine I can almost feel the warmness of her skin through her clothes. Fuck, my cock is already twitching just by having her this close. There’s something about her that makes me lose all control… And even though we’re outside, I can’t help but let instinct take over. I push her back against the wall, my hands on her waist as I lean in to kiss her.
I swear, I just wanted one more kiss. But now that my lips are on hers, there’s no way that we’re going to be able to stop. No fucking way. Her hands are already on my back, pulling me in, all of her hesitation thrown out of the window. I let my hands go up her side and, grabbing a handful of her beautiful blonde hair, I yank on it; she throws her head back, opening her eyes and returning my gaze. One look and I can already tell she’s as hungry as I am for more.
Who cares if we can be caught going at it? Who gives a fuck, really? If anything, it only adds to the moment.
“I’m going to fuck you,” I tell her, breathing as hard as she is. My blood’s boiling, my heart’s drumming and my cock is already hard as steel. I’m ready for battle. “Right now,” I add, leaning forward and pressing my lips against her neck. Her hands slide down my back and she traces the contour of my belt; then, stretching her fingers wide, she grabs my cock harshly, all of her desire contained in that one simple motion.
Still kissing her neck, I let one hand fall to her chest and I squeeze her right breast, feeling the perfect fleshy curves molding to my hand. My other hand goes around her waist and I cup her ass, the memories of her naked body flooding me at once as I grab her. My cock pulses against her hand, so strongly I wouldn’t be surprised if it just ripped its way out of my pants. Yes, I want to fuck her this bad.
She curls her fingers even more tightly around my shaft, slightly moving her wrist up and down and stroking me over the fabric of my pants. Acting as if it had a will of its own, the hand I have on her breast falls down her chest and goes straight to between her thighs; bunching up her dress, I flatten the palm of my hand there, cupping her pussy harshly over all of her clothing. There are layers of fabric between the two of us, but the anxious way she’s breathing already tells me she is soaking wet. And, fuck, just thinking of that makes me want to go down on my knees and taste her right here. And why the fuck not?
Both my hands go to her waist and, pinning her against the wall, I go down. My eyes never leave hers, a spark of desire flickering in her face as my knees touch the floor; she knows what’s coming, and she can’t wait for it. I throw a quick glance to the side, making sure there’s no one around to see us, and I go for it: I hook my thumbs on the hemline of her dress and lift it up to her waist, pressing my mouth over her thong at the same time.
The moment my lips touch the wet black fabric, I breathe in. Her scent hits me at once, sweet and intoxicating… Just like a drug, it makes me fucking high. I forget all about where I am; the only thing my mind can process is the perfect wet pussy right in front of me. I suck on her over the fabric, her juices hitting my tongue immediately; swear to God, I suck so hard I think her thong goes dry. With a flick of my fingers I push it to the side then, my lips meeting her labia. I close my eyes, savoring her most intimate parts with my mouth. How can a woman taste this fucking amazing? I could eat her out for hours and hours.
Slightly tilting my head sideways, I suck her folds inside my mouth, her juices coating the inside of my mouth. I part my lips, letting my tongue run over the length of her pussy, and then I circle her soft clit. She trembles slightly, her hands now on my head, disheveling my hair. I place one hand under her ass, forcing her to lift one leg up; she does it willingly, placing her leg over my shoulder. Grinning, I pull back just for one second, my eyes opening as I look up at her: she has her eyes closed, her back against the wall as her chest rises and falls softly. God, she looks so fucking sweet.
I go for it once more, my eyelids closing as I wrap my lips tightly around her clit. I suck on it, pressing down with my tongue at the same time; her fingers curl around my hair more harshly, I can already feel her breathing becoming even harder. That just makes me suck on her even more eagerly, her flavor inundating my mind and making me lose all sense of self.
Opening my mouth as wide as I can, I press it against her labia, jabbing my tongue past her inner lips as I place one arm over her waist, my hand reaching for her clit. I find it with two fingers, and I immediately start rubbing her soft sweet spot. A tenuous moan leaves her lips, her hands running back and forth over my hair; then, her fingers like hooks on my hair, she pulls on my head as she thrusts with her hips. I go fucking insane, her scent climbing all the way up to my brain like a bullet. I’m no longer eating her out. I’m fucking devouring her, my tongue and fingers working her with a hunger only Ashley can tame.
I keep on sucking and licking until I feel her close to the verge of ecstasy. Then I keep going, her moan turning into a loud sigh as she arches her back against the wall, her body becoming as tense as a coiled spring.
Thrusting hard against my mouth, she comes hard, holding my head in place as I feel sweet little spasms taking over the muscles in her thighs. Only when the pressure in her fingers eases up do I pull back, slowly opening my eyes and looking up at her. Her eyes are still closed, her head against the wall as she tries to catch her breath. I put the leg she has over my shoulder down on the floor and stand up, her dress falling down over her waist and covering her. I almost reach for it, anxious to simply rip it off and shred it to pieces, but saner thoughts prevail and, somehow, I manage to control my urges.
“You taste so fucking amazing,” I whisper against her ear, my cock tenting my boxer briefs and pants. “I love how your pussy tastes, Ashley.”
A smile on her lips, she opens her eyes slowly and purrs, her words driving me completely insane.
“Let me taste it then,” she says, and I’m leaning forward toward her before I have even understood her words. Before our lips touch, she runs her tongue from my chin to my mouth, taking in her own fluids; then, our mouths pressed tight against each other, we both part our lips and let our tongues wrestle against one another, my hands all over her perfect body.
I press my body against her, my crotch on her inner thigh. She moves her leg teasingly, rubbing my hard cock and almost making me lose my sanity. Pulling back from her kiss, I take one deep breath, my heart beating so fast I’m feeling fucking dizzy. Once again I look over my shoulder, trying to make sure that
the alley we’re in remains deserted. I’m so fucking hard I can’t even think straight, so I have to blink my eyes twice before my brain can process that yes, we’re still alone in our hidden New York corner.
“I want your mouth on me,” I find myself saying, a grin dawning on my lips. “I want you to open that little mouth of yours, and I want to fuck it.”
She grins back at me, a flicker of defiance in her eyes.
“Or what?” Sassy, yes, but she already knows how I play this game.
“There’s no 'or' with me,” I tell her, my fingers on the nape of her neck. “On your knees,” I command her, the tone of my voice leaving no room for a challenge. She goes down on her knees at once, her hands sliding down my chest until she has her fingers hooked on my belt. With her index finger she traces the contour of my cock, her eyes locked on it. As she starts to unbuckle my belt my cock pushes harder against my pants, pulsing with raw uncontrollable desire. Fuck, I need this bad.
My belt taken care of, she starts to unbutton my pants, my cock pushing out. I can’t help but close my eyes and sigh sharply as she presses the palm of her hand against it, massaging my shaft with slow cautious movements. Then, no warning at all, her fingers curl around the hem of my boxer briefs and she tugs them down; my cock jumps free immediately, the cool air of the street sending a shiver up my spine.
I open my eyes, looking down at Ashley as she grabs my cock with her small delicate hand. I don’t really like to brag about my size but, seeing my member in her hand, I just can’t help but be impressed by it. Yeah, this is me—Arsen Hawke—the gift God sent to ladies on this Earth.
As Ashley starts to stroke me, her hand moving back and forth over my shaft, I place both my hands on top of her head and run my fingers through her silky hair. Her head sways gently as I move my hands, her mouth dangerously close to my cock; her lips are slightly parted, as if she’s readying herself.
“You want it?” I ask her, slightly moving my hips forward so that my glans is just an inch away from her delicious lips. She nods obediently, looking up at me with those big eyes of hers.
