by Holly Hart
"I guess…" I unwillingly agreed. I could see the sense in what he was saying, but I didn't want to accept it – didn't want to believe it was true. Hell, couldn't he just let me wallow in the magic of my new career for just a little while? I decided to change the topic back to safer ground.
"Song looks good." I wasn't lying just to change the direction of the conversation – Clay had a damn good eye for a song. The lyrics were perfect. "Is there backing music?"
"Yeah, kinda."
"Can you give me a little more than just kinda?" I grinned. "I'm the newbie, remember?"
"Oh, yeah," he smiled, "sorry – I forgot." He moved his chair closer to me and looked me directly in the eyes. For a second, I wanted to lean in and kiss him, lean in and run my hands through his impossibly soft looking hair. I shivered and shook off the desire.
"We'll just play some ambient music, just something to get us in the mood, you know? This is just the first run. We'll record it, see how it sounds, then if it's good – we do it properly."
I could have sworn he winked as he said, get us in the mood. I shivered again, and this time, I was pretty sure it wasn't because I was shaking off the desire to kiss him. If anything, it was coming back stronger.
Clay pushed a button, and as he'd promised, some easy-listening ambient tones filled the room. "Ready?"
I nodded, and with a little frisson of excitement, donned a pair of heavy recording headphones. I felt like a goddamn music star! Years of watching my idols do this in music videos, and here I was, standing next to Clay Hunt in a recording booth! I had to pinch my skin just to allow myself to believe it was real.
It was the best three hours of my life, or at least the best three hours that I could remember in a hell of a long time.
"…turn this town to rubble, no trouble…" Clay sang.
I knew the bars of the songs we sang would be floating through my dreams for weeks, and I loved every minute of it, wanted to gobble it all up and remember every single second, just in case the contract didn't get signed, just in case I never made it as a star – because if I remembered this, then no one could ever take it away from me.
My line. "…I brush my cheek against his stubble…" I sang.
A couple more lines, and the bars floated away, leaving both Clay and I panting with exertion. He looked alive, and five years younger than I'd seen him just a couple of nights before. It was like the performance he'd just given had transformed him, showing him what it was like to create again.
"Oh my God," I said, adrenaline flooding through my body like a drug. "Clay, that was incredible – you were incredible."
He sat down, as though all the energy was flooding out of his body after our marathon recording session, as though he'd given everything he could for it to be a success, as though he'd given everything he could for me.
I loved him for it.
"You say you've never done this before?" he crowed hoarsely. "Alicia – you're a fucking natural!"
I loved him for that, too.
And then I did something I would never have dreamt of doing this morning.
I walked over to Clay.
I straddled him.
And I kissed him.
8
Clay
When Alicia kissed me, I was so surprised I almost said something. But I'd played this game long enough to know one thing – if a girl's coming onto you, your only job is not to screw it up. And I knew myself. My fatal flaw was usually my big mouth – I could be a loose cannon.
And the only cannon she needed to be worried about was the one between my legs…
My cock stiffened into action in seconds as she settled on top of me, kissing me hungrily like an explorer that hadn't seen food for days. I almost didn't touch her, didn't want to break the spell, but she looked so damn good, and I was so goddamn horny after two days of thinking about Alicia fucking Hudson in my bed, I couldn't help it. I grabbed her big, juicy ass and almost passed out with excitement.
"Oh my God, Alicia," I muttered – breaking my cardinal rule of shutting up and letting the girl do the talking, but I couldn't help it – she had some kind of spell over me. "You’re incredible. Your ass is incredible, your tits are—"
She looked down at me, cutting me off. "Incredible?" she asked, a cheeky glint in her eye.
"And you're a mind reader too," I joked, filling my hands with her firm ass and squeezing hard. "Is anything you can't do?"
"Apparently, it's keep my hands off you," she said, looking almost disappointed with herself.
"Trust me, you won't regret it," I said fervently – and I meant it. Anything this girl wanted, she'd get. I knew I'd give her everything.
"I think I will…" She sighed, breaking my heart. "But I can't stop myself."
That was good enough for me. I'd always been the guy who turned the good girls bad, but I didn't think either of us knew yet that that wasn't what was happening. No, if anything, Alicia was turning me good.
I growled, and it seemed to make her mind up for her. She put her face down towards mine and kissed me, biting my lip fiercely. I groaned, my cock rigid between my legs and pressing against her thighs as she sat on top of me. She felt real, whole, and I wanted every part of her.
The time for talking was over.
I ripped the floral top off her, not caring whether it survived or not. If she needed another, I'd buy it for her. Hell, if she needed another – I'd buy her the store. Her big, cocoa tits spilled out, and I almost came right then and there. I bit down on my lip hard. That was the last thing I wanted. I needed to show Alicia what I could do. If I couldn't change her mind about what kind of guy I was, then I knew at least I could show her a good time.
After all, if there was one thing Clay Hunt did well, it was show girls a good time. They didn't call me Hung for nothing. With most girls, I didn't care if they got off, as long as I did.
For Alicia, I wanted to last forever. I released her bra, letting her juicy breasts hang free, and couldn't stop myself from enveloping one of her puffy pink nipples in my mouth. I sucked and swirled, and she moaned into my ear, thrusting her hips forward. I knew I had her. I kept one hand stroking her lower back and sent the other one from her firm ass – it hurt me to let go – down between her thighs.
I didn't want her to have a moment's rest. I wanted her overwhelmed by the sensations: her nipples, her back, the wet slit between her thighs – I wanted every neuron firing, I wanted her writhing beneath me. I pulled the shirt off my back, picked her up like she didn't weigh a pound, kicked the chair away and laid her gently on my shirt. Throughout it all, her nipple barely left my mouth, nor my hand from between her legs.
I could feel the warmth from her slit pulsating through the thin material of her sexy black jeans, I was conducting it like the master of an orchestra, pushing the palm of my hand hard against her mound, then stroking upwards with my fingers until she writhed in ecstatic agony.
"Clay…" she whispered. "I need you in me."
No other man could have refused that offer, but I wasn't just any man. I wasn't ready – but more importantly, nor was she. I wanted her so wet and so turned on that she'd climax just by my huge cock pushing past the wet pink lips of her pussy, I wanted her clawing against my thick, muscular back.
I wanted her hornier than she'd ever been, and I was going to make sure she got there.
9
Alicia
I didn't know how I got myself in this situation, but right now Clay wasn't giving me even a second to consider whether what I was doing was sensible.
Right now, I didn't care if it was sensible, it felt so damn good.
He pulled off my boots, one after the other, long and sensuously, and I was so turned on that even that felt good. My skin felt like it was on fire, like thousands of tiny fireworks were going off all around my body, and it was all Clay's doing. More than anything, more than ever – I want to find out if his nickname was accurate.
I wanted to find out how hung he was. I needed his h
uge cock inside me, but for some reason, he was holding back. A couple of seconds later, I found out why.
He unzipped my jeans and pulled them off in one swift movement, his huge unbridled strength meaning it was nothing for him to take off the denim that had taken me more than thirty seconds to shimmy up my legs. I looked at him, the bulging abs rippling as he exerted himself, but he wasn't there for long.
He buried his head between my legs and kissed my fiery slit. I knew without a doubt that my panties were soaked through. I could feel the heat radiating from my pussy, and when he kissed me, my back arched as an electric shock sparked throughout my entire body.
"Oh God, Clay…"
His only response was a growl, and the deep reverberating sound had me desperate for him. He licked and nibbled the soft, silk material of my panties, and suddenly everything became clear to me. I hadn't waxed this morning for nothing. My pussy wasn't clean and hairless just because I'd woken up with a sudden desire to do so…
After all, when had that ever happened?
Never, that's when.
I knew this was going to happen, knew it the moment I walked out my front door, even if I never admitted it myself. As much as I hated him, Clay had something about him – an animal magnetism that sucked me in from first sight.
And then he pulled off my panties, tossed them aside and licked my pussy from the bottom to the top, and took my breath away. No man had ever got me to the point where I was begging for his cock and ignored me before, but I knew I'd never be able to go back to a normal man.
Clay was a master at this, he was a conductor, and he was conducting my orgasm like a pro – building me up in stages, taking me closer and closer to the edge. He nibbled my clit and I moaned in ecstasy, grabbing the back of his head and entangling my fingers in his hair, pushing his mouth hard against my pussy. If he was willing to give, then I was more than willing to take.
He took my participation as a challenge and buried his face deeper between my legs, licking and nibbling and suckling against my dripping lips until I was groaning, my fingers twitching, my muscle spasming in anticipation of the pleasure that was about to crash over my body.
"Clay…" I groaned. "I'm so close."
This time, it was an invitation he didn't ignore, and I'm glad he didn't. I didn't think I could have taken it again. I needed him inside me. I pulled his head up and he came willingly, hand deftly fumbling with the buckle of his belt, which soon landed with a clink on the floor. He unzipped his jeans and let them fall around his powerful but slender legs.
He wasn't wearing underwear. Of course he wasn't wearing underwear.
He pulled a condom from somewhere, and I was grateful that I didn't even need to ask. He bit the wrapper and slipped it on easily in a practiced motion. And then he was on top of me.
"Are you sure?" he asked, almost as though he were worried he might hurt me. Nothing could be further from the truth – my pussy was pulsating, it was ready for him – and only him.
My desperate eyes gave him the only answer he needed, and he couldn't hold himself back any more.
He guided his cock between my legs and pressed the huge, bulbous head against the lips of my pussy. He grabbed the back of my neck with one huge, powerful hand and pushed in slowly. I gasped, my back arching with the intense and unbridled pleasure of the biggest cock I'd ever taken combining with the effects of the best foreplay I'd ever received.
He slid his entire length inside me and let it rest for a second, and I gripped it with the powerful walls.
"My God, Alicia," he murmured, "you're filthy…"
He said reverently, as though I was some kind of holy site that he was defiling, and he was receiving an almost religious conversion. I didn't know why, but hearing the husky growl of worship in his voice made me almost pass out with pleasure.
What he did next certainly did.
Clay flipped me onto all fours in one easy, fluid motion, once again lifting my bodyweight like it was nothing, all while keeping his cock firmly embedded between my legs. I jerked with the unexpected pleasure, my clit clattering against his firm, pulsating hardness as he moved me effortlessly.
"Tell me when you're close," he growled, and I want to shout out that I already was, but I was so horny I could barely speak.
He began to thrust into me in long, fluid strokes, teasing me – never going fast enough that he pushed me over the edge, but never slow enough to allow me off the fiendish, toe-curling plateau of my impending orgasm. I began to pant, squeezing my pussy around the thick, huge hardness of his cock, trying to tease him into giving me what I wanted.
But Clay, corrupted Clay was – in this respect at least – incorruptible. He had the patience of a monk, of a saint, hell – the whole damn pantheon. I didn't know how he managed to resist it, but he did.
I groaned, frustrated and ready to come. "Please, Clay," I begged in desperation, "I need you to let me…"
"Let you what?" he growled, knowing exactly what he was asking. He just wanted to hear me say it.
"Let me come," I almost screamed. And he did exactly what I asked him for.
He grabbed my firm, juicy ass with both huge hands, taking handfuls of my soft cocoa flesh and pulling me back bodily towards him. My ass bounced against his hard, muscular thighs as he hauled me into him, and the impact reverberated hard through his cock into my body.
I yelped with desire, the heat building between my legs like a volcano primed and ready to blow. I reached back, grabbing hold of one of his lean, hard hips, and helped ease him ever deeper into me. Finally, it felt like I was taking his full length. And finally, it felt like Clay was losing control. His breath was becoming ragged, matching mine, his grip on my ass alternately loosening and tightening like he didn't know what was real and what wasn't anymore.
I clenched the walls of my pussy one last time, then I exploded. Stars crashed behind my eyes, and this time, thousands of fireworks exploded across my tender, overheated skin. My nipples felt like black holes, drawing in every scrap of pleasure they could find, and in the delirious depths of my orgasm, I picked one hand off the floor and pinched my nipple hard.
And then I felt Clay jerk inside me, the heat of his cum evident even through the thin latex material of the condom and the rampant, raging heat inside my pussy.
Right then, all I wanted was to feel his cum inside me.
10
Clay
Fucking Alicia on the floor of the recording booth was, more or less, how I'd hoped today would go. But as soon as I was done, I knew one thing – she deserved much better.
Much better than me, and much better than this.
Alicia was the kind of girl, no – the kind of woman, who deserved to be made love to, not just fucked, and in bed, not a dusty floor. Judging by the rosy flush on her cocoa cheeks, she didn't seem to mind too much, though…
I was still in a post-orgasmic daze when she said, "I'll be back in a second. I'm just going to clean up." She shot me a warm but uncertain smile, shucked on her jeans, and left the booth pulling her floral top over her head.
I looked down at my cock, wishing I was still buried deep between her thighs, and smiled as I saw that even now, when it was shrinking, it was still bigger than most men when they were fully erect. It was a little thing, a stupid thing – I knew that – but it didn't matter. I'd always know.
I pulled the johnny off my cock and tossed it into the trash can under the table. A part of me felt sorry for whoever had to clean that up, but then again, a bigger part of me didn't care. That shit was valuable – sometimes after a one-night stand, I'd tie up the condom and take it with me. I sure as shit didn't need some baby anchoring me down, some baby momma squeezing me for child support for the next eighteen years. Hell no.
Alicia wasn't that kind of girl, though. She was classy. I could just tell that she had something about her that most other women didn't. It was in the way she carried herself, the way she flicked her hair…
And the way she fucked.
>
I blinked. How the hell was my mind still on her? Usually after I'd slept with a girl, that was it. I tossed them away as easily as the condom carrying my seed. But there was something about Alicia that didn't let me do that. I pulled my plain white T-shirt back over my head, stepped into my jeans and zipped them back up.
Just in time, because Mike had seen my cock enough times, and he was about to step through the door of the recording booth.
"How’d it go?" he asked jovially.
"Pretty well." I grinned, still firmly caught up in the chemical afterglow of a good, hard fuck.
"Jesus, Clay," Mike groaned, "you didn't screw her, did you?"
How the hell did he figure that out?
"How'd you guess?" I asked, genuinely surprised. I felt no shame in it. How could anyone feel shame after making love to an ebony goddess like Alicia? No, the only shame I felt was that I'd ever slept with lesser women. They didn't deserve me, not like she did. Hell, with Alicia the real question was – did I deserve her?
"Oh, I dunno," he shot back, "maybe that wide, shit-eating smile on your face? Maybe the fact this whole booth smells of sex? Where is she?"
"Aw, Mike, don't be like that. I thought you'd be proud of me? When have I ever slept with a girl like that? She's a classy lady, Mike. She'll be good for me."
"I wanted her to be good for your career, not your cock, Clay," Mike sighed.
"Why not both?" I asked, perfectly reasonably. Mike just rubbed the bridge of his nose with pinched forefingers and groaned.
"Jesus, Clay, you're unbelievable – you know that?"
"I know." I smiled. "Thanks. Did you get it done, then? The deal."
"Oh yeah, Clay," Mike said sarcastically, "while you were here working hard, I was out there getting the contract all fixed up."
