by Alexis Angel
“Please…” I moan, my voice quivering, and he starts to push his cock into me. As his glans stretches my hole and goes inside my ass, it’s as if lightning and thunder explode inside of me. I can feel my inner walls straining to accommodate him and, even though it hurts, the pleasure I’m feeling right now is simply beyond all of it. Inch by slow inch, he slides his cock inside of my ass and I feel my eyes rolling in their orbit. When his long inches are all inside of me, I realize that I’ve been holding my breath; I will my lungs to start working again and, at the same time, he starts pulling his cock out.
He builds the rhythm slowly, sliding his cock in and out of my ass with tender movements; each coming and going motion makes my mind burn and turn into ash, and it doesn’t take long for me to start to thrust back and impale myself on his cock.
I won’t lie; it hurts. It hurts like hell. But as the pain goes through my nerve endings and reaches my brain, somewhere along the way it transforms into pleasure. It’s hard to explain, but what matters is that this is the sweetest kind of pain I’ve ever experienced in my entire life. You can quote me on that.
“You’re so fucking tight…” he whispers, more to himself than to me. At the same time, he starts to build up the pace, the sound of his thighs slapping my ass grow into a furious crescendo and, as I scream, a symphony of pure unbridled lust fills my ears. Each thrust of his draws a violent scream out of my mouth, and it doesn’t take long for my throat to feel raw and sore. And still I keep on screaming, pushing through the pain and succumbing to the demands of ecstasy.
As he keeps on ravaging my ass, he starts to smack my cheeks, laying his hand heavily on my flesh. My screams turn into moans, and moans turn into sighs; in a few thrusts, my throat is so raw that I can no longer utter a single sound. But he keeps thrusting, fucking me in such a way that I can no longer tell left from right. This is pure bliss, there’s no other way to describe it. If I had to guess, I’d say that Heaven would be a place where Mason and I could fuck every single hour of the day without getting exhausted. Now that’d be something.
“I want you to… Come in my ass,” I manage to say between breaths, already imagining how it’ll feel to have his cum filling me. That’s enough to make my whole body go electric; in an instant, I tense up like a nocked arrow, all the energy that has been pooling in my muscles screaming to be set free.
Mason starts to thrust like a madman, completely ravaging me, and I ball my hands into fists and prepare for impact. My fingernails are digging into the palm of my hands, and I only open them up when I finally come. It hits me almost by surprise, a wild spasm taking over every single one of my muscles. I go down on my elbows, and Mason buries his cock as deep as possible inside of my ass and holds it there.
“Oh, God…” I moan, repeating these words over and over again as my brain burns. “Come for me, Mason… Come…” I whisper, my muscles finally relaxing. Moving fast, he slides his cock out of my pussy and then in again, building up his rhythm once more. This time there’s nothing gentle or tender about it; he’s doing it for his own pleasure, and only his own.
It doesn’t take him long; a few violent thrusts, a couple of screams from my side, and I start to feel his shaft pulsing violently against my inner walls. Just like that, I feel him gushing his load inside of me, coating my insides in white. I hold my position as he cums, moaning as I feel his warm seed filling me up. Moving slowly, Mason starts to slide his cock out even though he’s still cumming; when it pops out of my ass, it sends thick strands of semen all over my lower back. It drips down my crack and over the curve of my cheeks and, at the same time, I feel it dripping out of my asshole.
Moving fast and without a hint of hesitancy, he places his hands on my ass cheeks, spreads them wide and attacks me with his mouth. I can’t help but moan as I feel his lips on my hole, his tongue jabbing at my insides and scooping up his own semen. When he has licked my asshole dry, he runs his tongue up and down my crack, taking all of the cum he finds there into his mouth. He finally moves down to my pussy, tilting his head sideways and sucking on my inner lips, drying them up as he laps at them with his tongue.
When he finally pulls back from me, I force myself to turn around and sit on the edge of the desk. My eyes lock on his, and I feel my heart pounding loudly as I notice a few drops of cum making their way down his chin. With a smile on my lips, I reach for him and, using only the tip of my tongue, I scoop every last drop into my mouth.
Wordlessly, he leans into me and, with two fingers under my chin, presses his lips against mine. Instinct guiding every single one of my actions, I push my tongue past his lips and take into my mouth all of the cum he has licked out of me. I roll my tongue around his mouth, brushing it against his own tongue and at the insides of his cheeks and, when I finally pull back, my mouth is brimming with his salty seed.
This time, he doesn’t need to tell what to do; with an exhausted grin on my face, I swallow, Mason’s seed burning its way down my raw throat. Spent, exhausted, and barely able to think straight, I lean back, supporting myself on my elbows, and look into Mason’s eyes. He’s looking at me in a way that makes my heart tighten up, and I realize that, somewhere along the way, we crossed one forbidden line from where there’s no going back. We are no longer just fooling around or succumbing to desire… No, this is something more. Something that I can no longer control… Something that I no longer want to control.
“You’re mine, baby girl,” Mason whispers, looking down at me with more than just passion flickering in his eyes. Fully knowing that I’m signing my death sentence, I respond in kind.
“I’m yours.”
17
Mason
"I'm yours."
Becca's words are tumbling through my brain as I travel back to my apartment. They nestle in my throat at every red light, and they sit in the pit of my stomach as the elevator to my apartment travels up to the top floor.
I told her that she was mine as well.
I know it doesn't make sense. I don't expect you to understand it. There's a considerable age difference between us, and she's my stepdaughter, which I have a hard time wrapping my head around … and I'm technically married … but we have an undeniable chemistry, Becca and I.
I'm falling for this girl. I have to be honest with myself.
This is new territory for me. I don't fall for women. Ever. Not Mason fucking Kane, the King of Wall Street.
But this is different.
I walk into my apartment and stand in front of the windows overlooking the city. My housekeeper called in sick today, and I notice a few used scotch glasses sitting on top of the table. I realize I better pick up the place a bit.
Becca mentioned that she was going to come over tonight after she finished up with her work. And after what just happened back at her office, I wouldn't object to a second round with her.
I press my forehead to the cool glass of the window, allowing the city lights to dance across my field of vision, and I recount my evening at the office. My hands on the small of Becca's back, and on her hips. Breathing in her scent as deep as my lungs would allow me to like a kid in a candy shop. My lips on her neck, nibbling her soft flesh. Hiking her skirt up above her thighs, and parting her legs. Firmly squeezing her perfect breasts and then feeling the wetness of her thong against the palm of my hand. Gently grabbing the rosy tip of her nipple in between my teeth and watching them grow hard under my touch. Her firm ass.
Just thinking about this is causing my cock to stir alive in my pants again. It's straining against my zipper and threatening to bust free.
Then I feel my cell phone vibrate in the pocket of my pants and it breaks my thoughts, bringing me back into the present.
It's Lorna. I let it ring a few times and then decide to answer it right before it goes to voice mail.
Hello dear, are you home?" she asks. She won't give up. It's like she doesn't understand that I want nothing to do with her.
I debate as to whether or not be truthful with her. Do I ad
mit I'm home, or do I say I took a late client meeting? I figure lying takes too much energy, so I decide to tell her the truth.
"I just walked in the door," I reply.
"Good, I'd like to come over," she says, and I can almost hear her lips curl into a smile.
"Truthfully, I'm pretty tired tonight," I say. It's the best I can muster.
"Nonsense," she demands. "I'll bring a nice bottle of Pinot Noir, and we can unwind together. How does that sound?"
That sounds like my worst nightmare.
"I can't," I continue. "I'm tired enough; the wine will put me over the edge."
Her voice now assumes a hard edge to it.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're trying to avoid me, Mason."
"Well, there's clearly no avoiding you."
"We're technically married," she says. "Are you forgetting that?"
"How could I forget when you make it painfully clear every waking moment?" I ask. It's true. I can't even count how many times she's given me this spiel at this point.
"As husband and wife, I refuse to be in a sexless marriage," she says. "We need to have sex, Mason. My patience is running thin."
It takes me a moment to say anything. The idea of having sex with that woman is repulsive. I'd drag my feet to the ends of the earth before I agreed to that.
"I mean it," she continues. "If you keep playing this silly little game of yours, I'll tell the Board."
"Tell the Board what exactly?" I ask.
"I'll make a big deal about Red Lion Aviation," she says matter-of-fact. "What CEO can be respected for walking away from a cool trillion dollars?"
"You know as well as I do that the investment would go bust."
"Is that so?" she asks. "The Board listens to me. On paper, Red Lion Aviation looks good Mason. They're profitable and expanding. You slammed them for having poor safety ratings, but you should know that they've cleaned up their act. They're in good standing now. They're even adding new flights this year beyond Southeast Asia. A sizeable investment in Red Lion could change the future of Kane Price."
"Yeah, it could shutter our doors," I say.
"You're wrong," she continues. "It could increase our reach. We could break into US markets, and profits could reach unprecedented levels. We'll turn a billion dollars into a trillion."
I laugh. I don't laugh because it's funny … because this situation is anything but funny … it's downright infuriating, but I laugh at the irony. Here she is talking about increasing profits by such a wide margin, when I know the opposite would happen.
Still don't believe me?" she asks. "Well, I don't need you to believe me; I just need you to do as I say. If you don't, there will be consequences. I'll be sure to make a big deal about it with the Board."
Fuck. It's a catch 22. She has me by the balls and she knows it. What can I do at this point? I feel like I've got my neck in a rope and the longer I'm with Lorna, the tighter it gets. I'll hang myself if I'm not careful.
I realize there's only one thing left for me to do.
I grab my keys and wallet.
"I'm coming over," I tell Lorna before hanging up the phone.
"Now that's more like it," she purrs.
But she has no idea why I'm coming over.
I have to end this marriage.
18
Becca
It's as if I'm under a spell. A spell cast by Mason Kane. Have you ever been so captivated by someone that you don't mind spending every waking minute with them? Well, that's how I feel about Mason. It's strange to admit, but it's true.
Sure, his ego is sometimes too big for his own good, but with that comes confidence.
I feel his intoxicating draw as soon as he steps next to me … his warmth, his strength, and his cologne—a mixture of leather, and spice, and seduction. And don't get me started about his suits. Anything would look good on a body like Mason's, it's true, but his suits elevate him to the next level. It's as if James Bond has handpicked his entire wardrobe. Classy and perfectly tailored. It's delicious.
There's something about him … his power, and success, and drive. He's driven in a way that few men are, and I find that incredibly sexy. When Mason walks into a room, he commands it, almost without effort. People turn, and stare, and want to know this man.
Many want to be him.
In that sense, he's my opposite. I was painfully shy in school. I'll admit it. I've gotten better over the years, but I've always admired people who don't have that level of social anxiety.
God, just listen to me.
I'm gushing on and on about a man who's technically my stepfather.
I shouldn't be feeling this way … but I have to admit that I do.
I think I'm really falling in love with this man.
I'm lying on my bed in the soft light of my room and I realize I better start packing. I promised Mason I'd come by his apartment later, and stay the night.
I tap my cell phone and check the time. It's almost 8 pm.
I jump up and rummage through the top drawer of my dresser … where I've neatly stashed an enviable collection of lingerie. I decide to pick out something a little … naughty. I grab a sheer, black lace set. You can't go wrong with black. It's sexy and classy, and flatters everyone who wears it. If you don't believe me, you can ask Aubrey Hepburn or even the stripper down the street at Scandals. And if you ask men, most will pick black. Yes it's true, more men, if given the choice, will choose black even over red.
Next, I spritz myself with a little perfume, something ultra feminine—a floral scent that is sexy, like walking through a secret garden of jasmine and orchids, and rolling around in a bed of roses. I dab some perfume on the pulse of my wrists, on my neck … and even a dab in between my thighs. The fragrance is impossible to miss, which is a good thing. When it comes to Mason, I want to be unforgettable.
I also need to also think about clothes for the morning. Maybe we'll splurge and grab breakfast at Norma's—their Papaya Mango Brown Butter Cinnamon crepes are seriously to die for. I'm not even exaggerating. If you haven't tried them hun, I suggest you do sometime.
And honestly, the thought of waking up next to Mason tomorrow morning makes me giddy. I don't know what's come over me, but the thought of nuzzling into his strong chiseled chest and walking hand-in-hand with the King of Wall Street down the streets of New York City is enough to make my heart leap.
A man has never made me feel this way before.
I lean down and zip up my overnight bag when I hear something.
There's a thump, and then I hear what sounds like two people laughing in the living room. It's normally quiet around this time, so the commotion piques my interest. Maybe my mother is talking to Carl? I didn't think mom was having any guests over tonight, so I walk over by the wall and strain to hear.
"You like what you see?" Lorna says. "This is just the beginning … a taste, if you will."
A man replies, “You think you’re going to have me?”
"Oh, just wait till I wrap my lips around—"
The rest of the conversation is muffled and I strain against the door to hear more. It's clear that something is going on, and then something else becomes crystal clear … the man's voice is … Mason.
What in the hell is he doing here? He's supposed to be at his apartment. We made plans. And what's he doing with my mother?
Yes, I know they're married, but only on paper. He swore it was all against his will.
But if that's the case, why is he in my mother's house in our living room … being seduced by the sound of it?
"Ah, ah, ah—no hands … yet anyways," Lorna purrs. "Someone's awfully eager."
“That’s not what I came here to do,” he says. “This wasn’t what we agreed to, Lorna.”
"I'll tell you where, when, and how I want you. All you need to do darling is follow my lead," she replies.
"I'm not a man used to taking orders," he replies. "Especially not from women."
"I'll think you'll find this a n
ice change of pace," she replies.
What exactly is happening in there? By the sound of things, Mason seems to be going along with my mother's desires. This isn't the man I know … or maybe I never really knew him at all.
I feel a boulder-sized rock nestle itself into the pit of my stomach and I can barley breath. It's a heaviness I can't shake.
Maybe Mason isn't the man I thought he was.
One thing's for sure; I definitely won't be going to his apartment tonight.
I reach for my overnight bag and draw back the zipper. I grab the lingerie sitting on top of my clothes and wipe back a tear that's threatening to spill out from the corner of my eye.
I throw the lingerie to the floor in disgust.
I'm not helpless, and I'm certainly not weak, or gullible.
If that's what he thinks, he doesn't know me at all.
19
Mason
Lorna is right fucking here. Her tits are nearly spilling out of her dress. Her body is angled into mine. Even the way that I'm sitting has my cock open to her and don't I fucking know it, I feel first her knee rubbing at my crotch, and then her hand starts massaging my cock through my trousers.
She's squeezing it, palpitating it like a shoe saleseman as she squeezes down the shaft looking for the head.
She finally reaches it, and just by her manipulation, she's gotten me fucking hard.
Understand before you get fucking pissed at me that I have zero attraction to Lorna Lowell—I refuse to even think of her with my last name. I fucking hate what she's done to the people around her—her father, her daughter, you name it. There is no way I want to fuck her in this lifetime.
