I hold it up and admire it. “Oh, Brandon. It’s beautiful! Help me put it around my neck.”
He chuckles. “Baby, you can wear it as a necklace tonight at dinner. I had it custom-made. It’s very versatile. But right now you’re going to wear this unique piece of jewelry a different way.”
His hand slides under the front opening of my sheer baby doll and he tweaks my nipples until they’re hard peaks. His violet eyes darken with lust.
“Are you ready, baby?”
“Oh yeah,” I moan, still not sure what he has in mind.
A devilish smile curls on his lips. “Good. It’s playtime.”
He takes the necklace from me, and in a few heated breaths, the jeweled clasps are pinching my erect nipples. I wince with delicious pain as his nimble fingers move straight to my sex. Two fingers plunge inside my pussy while his thumb rubs my clit. I curse under my breath. The erogenous sensation of the extreme pain and pleasure makes me want to burst out of my skin.
“Oh, baby, you’re so hot and juicy. I’m going to feast on my breakfast.”
“Oh yes, baby. Please do!”
After a sharp parting of my legs, Brandon repositions himself between them, leaning back on his heels. Planting his palms firmly on my upper thighs, he buries his head in my pussy. His hungry mouth sucks and gnaws at my slick folds and then his talented tongue licks my clit the way a little kid might lick the gravy off a plate. He brings new meaning to breakfast in bed.
He moans. “Mmm, baby, you smell so good. You taste even better. I could eat you morning, noon, and night.” The tip of his tongue teases my entrance and then it moves back to my clit…flicking and licking, driving me crazy, while two fingers slide up and down my wet chasm.
I’ve always had über sensitive nipples, but the nipple clamps seem to be intensifying the sensations I’m feeling down below exponentially. And the more I heave my chest, the tighter they get and the closer I get to the point of no return. A mix of sighs, groans, and whimpers fill the back of my throat and escape through my lips. The clamps give new meaning to the lyrics of that John Mellencamp song, “It Hurts So Good.” Oh God, does it! I’m reduced to whimpers and begging to let me come.
Brandon owns all of me. And that includes my orgasms. When they come; where they come; how they come. And that’s the way I love him. I can’t come until he says I can. Or I’ll face the sometimes painful (in a good way!) consequences of disobeying him. I bite down hard on my lip, thinking this will prolong the onset of my orgasm and quell my hunger for him. Wishful thinking! The pain I give myself only adds to the erotic cocktail that’s spilling from my core and saturating every cell of my body.
“Please baby, either let me come or fuck me!” Mama taught me that patience had its virtues. But she’d never taught me that patience had its rewards. That’s something I’ve learned from Brandon.
I’m not sure if he’s heard my plea. He doesn’t respond. His ravenous mouth is too busy devouring me, and the truth is I’m so close to coming he’d deprive me if he stopped. All I can do is cry, “Please, please, please.” As far as Brandon’s concerned, there’s nothing like begging. He loves Mama’s magic word. I just have to wait for permission.
My clit is vibrating against his tongue, and inside my belly, the pressure is building, an orgasmic time bomb that will go off when he flicks the switch. And then just when I think I may explode prematurely, he kisses my clit and an orgasm crashes through me. I detonate, shrapnel of bliss spraying me from head to toe as I cry out his name. Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God. I’m falling apart cell by cell. He’s given me an orgasm of epic proportions. An orgasm I will never forget.
He smacks a hot kiss on my lips. “Happy anniversary, baby.”
Happy, happy anniversary.
Brandon
She may not be beautiful by Hollywood standards, but to me she’s the most beautiful woman in the world. I love her every imperfection, her luscious curves, her little unexpected dimples. And in the bedroom, she gives me what I need. Many women in the world are in love with me, but not one understands me. Or loves—and reveres—me as much as my Zoey does. Our love has no boundaries. She’s insatiable.
She deepens my kiss, cradling my face between her long-fingered hands. The hands that have blown me to pieces innumerable times. Her mouth gnaws mine as our tongues entwine like two dancers, swirling and twirling. She tastes so delicious. And those little gurgling sounds at the base of her throat are such a turn-on. I’m so hard I may burst through my pajama bottom. My hand reaches down to her pussy.
“Brandon,” she moans, “you’re killing me.”
Breathing heavily, I kiss her neck and shoulders, nipping her from time to time. “No, baby, you’re going to be the death of me.” As I continue to massage her drenched pussy, I place one of her hands on my hard as nails cock. She strokes the length of it.
“Fuck,” I mumble under my breath.
“Brandon, fuck me. Please!” she breathes against my neck between succulent wet kisses that are driving me insane. I so fucking love when she begs. But she’s going to have to wait. I call the shots here.
“No, baby, not yet,” I say, teasing her hot swollen clit and sliding her other hand under the waistband of my bottoms.
“Oh, God, Brandon! I can’t take it! I need you inside me. Please! Pretty please!”
Oh, she’s desperate alright. But so am I. “No, baby, not until you’ve eaten your breakfast. And swallowed every drop of it.”
Her knowing eyes narrow seductively at me. “Oh, so you want me to give you a blowjob, Mr. Taylor? Is that what it’ll take?” She licks her lips and my cock stirs.
Plain and simple. “Do it.”
On my next breath, my bottoms are pulled down to my knees and her mouth is clamped around my wide crown. I arch back and hiss. Gripping the base, she lowers her mouth on my thick shaft, her tongue trailing along the backside, and takes me all the way. At the same slow speed and intensity, she comes back up.
“Jesus, Zoey.” Seriously, I don’t know how she does it. I can’t tell you how many times I fantasized her giving me a blowjob before we were married, but nothing prepared me for the earth-shattering reality. An artist, she swirls her tongue around my crown and then goes down on me again, but this time faster with a little scrape of her teeth. She quickly gets into a rhythm and begins pumping the base with her hand. And humming her favorite song—“Unforgettable.”
Arching, I squeeze my eyes shut and fist her hair as she bops up and down my monstrous erection because I just need something to hold on to. My breathing is harsh. I can’t even get words out of my mouth. Just a bunch of grunts and groans. My fingers continue to strum her throbbing clit. Usually, I can hang on, but my stamina is waning as she sucks me fast and furiously. My body’s heating, my pulse racing. Every muscle in my body tenses with ecstasy. I feel my balls contract as my cock prepares for an out of this world orgasm.
“Zo, I’m going to come in your mouth.”
She nods with acknowledgment as she goes down on me, the rhythm of her bobbing head bringing me to the brink. As the tip of my cock hits the base of her throat, I explode and cry out her name. Stars and fireworks fill my head. If there’s such a thing as a full-body orgasm, I’ve had one. I think I’ve gone to heaven.
Her lips stay glued to my cock as I empty my load. God, I love it when she swallows. Then, slowly, I glide my still hard cock out of her mouth, relishing the feeling of her warm velvety tongue following my ascent. She reverently kisses my shimmering crown when I pull out, sucking off the last bit of cum. Four little words: The. Best. Blowjob. Ever.
I suck in a calming breath. “Fuck, baby. That was amazing!”
She smiles with smug victory and then licks her wet pouty lips. The small gesture is so erotic my cock jumps to full attention. I so badly want to be inside her.
“Okay, baby, you’re ready for a good fucking. Spread your legs.”
She smolders her eyes. “Not yet.”
What the fuck? I give the orde
rs in the bedroom. Before I can get my mouth to move, she leaps out of the bed.
“I’ll be right back.” She skips out of the room, leaving me pissed as hell. I’m going to have to punish her.
Leaning back against the mountain of pillows, I stare down at my enormous erection as I contemplate Plan B. I didn’t want to punish her on our special day, but she’s given me no choice. She’s got to learn a lesson about who’s in control. My mind races. Hmm…handcuffs. I’ll use the one’s her father gave me and cuff her to the railings of our steel headboard while she’s facing it on her knees. First, she’s going to get a nice spanking until her sweet ass turns a lovely rosy red. Then, I’m going to taunt that tight pussy of hers. Tease that sweet little clit until she pleads for me to make her come. Except I’m not going to let her. She’s going to have to wait just the way she made me wait. And then I’m finally going to use that little toy she bought me. Ha ha! The Magic Cock Ring. The package promises I can go forever before climaxing. I can picture the scene in my mind’s eye. Oh yeah. My feisty little wife is going to pay the price. I’m going to fuck her in the ass—that gorgeous puckered hole of hers that’s made for me. Bang her like there’s no tomorrow and she’s going to be begging so hard for me to either stop or make her come she’ll be in tears. My cock is twitching at the thought. I mentally high five myself.
“Darling, I’m back,” comes a sexy rasp that startles me out of my wicked reverie. Zoey.
I look up and my eyes stay riveted on her deliciously curvy body as she lopes my way. Gucci follows her, wagging his tail. She’s holding a small rectangular box in her hand. It’s wrapped in metallic paper and finished off with a violet ribbon that’s tied in a bow.
Crawling back onto the bed, she sits cross-legged, angled so she’s facing me and a breath away. She holds the gift-wrapped box in her palms. My plans for world domination are waylaid by my curiosity.
“What’s that?”
After smacking a chaste kiss on my cheek, she hands me the box. “It’s your anniversary present.”
A brow lifts. “Another sex toy?” I ask, untying the ribbon.
“Kind of.”
Tearing off the shiny paper, I study the two by six-inch generic white box. “Some kind of magic wand?”
“Yes.” She smiles coyly. “I hope you love it as much as I do.”
I’m getting excited. This could be fun. I feel her gaze on me as I lift off the lid. My eyes almost pop out of their sockets. Holy shit! I know what this is. My character, Kurt Kussler, was given the exact same magic stick by his wife Alisha just before her tragic death. I feel my eyes water.
“Really?” I choke out the word while The Gooch gives a woof.
My beautiful Zoey cups my face with her hands and then tenderly kisses my lips. “Yes, my darling hero. We’re having a baby.”
Overwhelmed with emotion, I take her in my arms and hold her against my heart, never wanting to let her go. The playroom we were planning to build for ourselves to indulge our lifestyle may be sacrificed for another with a different set of swings.
Brandon
Five Years Later
“Man, did you ever think you’d be thirty-five-years-old sitting on the ledge of a sandbox?”
I’m at the celebrity-filled Beverly Glen Park I frequent regularly. My best bud, Blake Burns, adjusts his shades as we watch our kids play with pails and shovels. He chuckles. “Fuck no.”
“Me neither. It’s a good life though, huh?”
“I wouldn’t trade it in for the world.”
“Where’s Jen?” I ask him, after checking on The Gooch, who’s taking a nap under a nearby tree.
“She’s with the new baby at a Combat Wombats voice recording session.” His talented wife now runs Conquest Broadcasting’s popular children’s network, Peanuts.
“Bella and Teddy both love that show.”
Bella Angel and Teddy Paul are our twins, my beautiful daughter named after my late mentor, who peacefully passed away just before their birth, and Zoey’s mother, and my adorable Teddy, after my father Edward and Zoey’s dad Paul. Twins run in Zoey’s family, and a generation didn’t pass us by. Her parents, Pete and Jo, are the most doting and wonderful grandparents anyone could ask for.
Blake smiles. “Leo loves it too. But his favorite is your show. He goes around the house saying, “Get it! Got it? Good!”
I laugh. In my wildest imagination, I never thought Kurt Kussler would be spun off into a super-successful, pro-social animated series. Kurt Kussler: Bully Buster. In addition to voicing the main character, I do the live-action wraparounds, condemning bullies and giving tools to kids for dealing with them. It was Blake’s wife’s idea. Not only is the show a big hit, Kurt Kussler action toys are flying off the shelves.
While the animated Kurt Kussler will likely be on for years to come, my live action show wrapped up its final season. In the very last episode, Kurt finally destroys his nemesis, The Locust, in an action-packed chase scene that culminates with him going over a cliff, and his wife, Mel, gives birth to twins after years of infertility. I’m sad to see the series end, but I’m moving on to bigger things. I’m going to be the next James Bond! A part I agreed to only if Zoey was cast as Miss Moneypenny. The producers acquiesced and we start filming this summer. We’re both super excited.
A sweet little voice grabs my attention. Teddy. “Daddy, look at my castle!”
My eyes shift to my little boy, who’s a spitting image of me—violet eyes and all. His castle is just a pile of sand, but I give him a thumbs-up. My angelic Bella, with her mane of flaming red hair, faces me and yells she helped. I blow her a kiss, and with a big smile, she blows one back with her little hands. God, my little ones are cute. Too cute. I’m so blessed. Too blessed. Zo and I are working on having more kids. Could I possibly have another as delicious as these two munchkins?
Blake cuts into my thoughts. “What’s Zoey up to?”
“She’s shooting a scene of Perfect 10 at Musso’s today. It’s the only day the restaurant is closed and available.”
“That show is killing it in the ratings. There’s a lot of talk that she’s going to be nominated for both a Golden Globe and an Emmy.”
“No kidding?” An ear-to-ear grin stretches across my face. Wouldn’t that be something if we both won this year!?
“Hi, boys!” A familiar flamboyant voice sounds in my ears.
My eyes flit to the right. Heading our way is Zoey’s brother Jeffrey and his spouse Chaz. They’re pushing a stroller. Seated inside it are their adorable two-year-old twin daughters. Elsa and Anna.
Chaz unstraps them. “Okay, beautiful princesses, go play.” Clutching their sand toys, they toddle into the sandbox. Looks like our little sandcastle builders are about to get some company. The children spot each other and run up to one and other. Hugs all around. It’s so damn cute I take a picture with my cell phone and send it to Zo.
Jeffrey and Chaz squat down next to us. They’re wearing matching lime green shorts and floral-print shirts. According to Blake’s wife Jennifer, the fashionistas are going through a Lilly Pulitzer whoever-the-fuck-that-is phase. Even their twins are clad in bright floral rompers.
“Did you hear the news?” coos Jeffrey, never one to hold back gossip. “Katrina Moore is being released from prison this week.”
“FUCK!” Blake and I shout out in unison. A nearby mom shoots us a dirty look.
Every muscle in my body clenches. The fucking psycho bitch almost robbed Blake of his life and his beautiful wife while she almost robbed me of my life, my bank account, and my career. Blake actually thinks she went after me to bring him and Conquest Broadcasting down. Rob the network of its number one star and everything can change. Who knows? He may be right. The psycho bitch is capable of anything.
Before I can say another word, a nanny comes up to me and asks for my autograph. With a forced smile, I sign the Kurt Kussler novel she’s brought along. Jeffrey and Chaz excuse themselves and saunter over to the ice cream truck to buy treats f
or all the kids. I ask Blake how he feels about Katrina’s release.
“You know what, I’m not going to worry about it. Jen and I have some dirt on her that will keep her from trying anything rash. And you know what, pal…if I were you, I’d just forget about her.”
I digest his words and think about his father’s words of wisdom he once shared: “Some things are best forgotten.” I come to the conclusion he’s right. Thanks to Zoey, the incriminating photos she took with her phone in Cannes have long been deleted and there’s nothing she can do or say to hurt me. I’m going to bury that regrettable bitch in that part of mind where memories don’t exist. Make her forgettable.
There’s only one woman who matters in my life. My wonderful, sexy as hell wife, and tonight I’m going give her a fucking that’ll be unforgettable.
Katrina
California Institution for Women, Chino
My last fucking supper. Goodbye, suckers. I’m out of this hellhole tomorrow. It’s been five long years of pure torture. Whoever said “orange is the new black” needs their stupid head examined. In less than twenty-four hours, I’ll be out of these rags and back in Armani. And drinking Cristal.
After I toast my new life, I know exactly what I’m doing next. I glare down at my chest. Skeletons of the letters are still there; those bullshit laser treatments were a painful waste of time. I should have asked for my money back. But I’ve decided, why try to cover them up? I’m going to get them re-inked. Except I’m going to replace the “u” with an “i” and dot it with a crown. B-I-T-C-H. Because I’m still the Queen of Bitches.
I’ve learned a lot. Men…they’re all fucking assholes. Blake, Brandon, Scott, even Daddy. Mommy had the right idea when she chose Monique.
The world needs to know. Yes, I’m going to write a book. In fact, I’ve been working on it in prison. Such a great title: I Put the It in Bitch.
It’s going to bring me fame and fortune. Everything I’ve always wanted.
Unforgettable: The Complete Series (A Sexy Cinderella Standalone Love Story) Page 56
