Client No. 6: A Dial-A-Date Romance

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Client No. 6: A Dial-A-Date Romance Page 41

by Cassandra Dee


  And I groaned deep in my chest.

  “That’s right, baby girl,” I panted. “I’m lubing my dick up in your twat, getting it wet for you.”

  And the brunette just twisted beneath me again, her cunt clutching my dick even tighter, sucking it in like a hoover, so strong, so powerful that I could hardly believe she’d been a virgin just two days ago.

  “Oh fuck,” I grunted gutturally. “Fuck me.”

  But I was supposed to be doing the fucking, I was a man with a mission and just a few seconds in her hot puss was enough, I was dripping with her juices now. I pulled my pole out and sure enough it was coated in a film of white, like I’d just dipped it in superglue.

  “Fuck,” I grunted again. “You’re so wet,” I ground out.

  But the girl was too lost, her eyes closed, riding the waves of sensation.

  “Fuck me,” was all she sighed in return, her hips twisting futilely, desperate now that my dick was gone, her hole empty. “Do it.”

  And I was only too happy to oblige. Shifting my hips down, I pointed my dick at her back door, nudging it against those tight pleats and pushed a little, thrusting with a smooth motion.

  “Oh fuck!” she cried, tossing her head, stroking her nips as I ran myself up against that small pucker. “Oh fuck!”

  “Baby,” I ground out, “Touch your clit, it’ll make it go in easier.”

  And through her haze, Laurie heard me and slipped a small hand between her legs, rubbing her cunt, moistening her fingers in those sloppy wet folds. Immediately, her pucker gave a little as she relaxed, the tenseness running out of her body in flood of discharge.

  But she was still tight, still an anal virgin and there was work to be done. So I took my dick in hand and forced it up harder against her anus, this time those sticky pleats opening up enough to take about a quarter-inch of meat.

  “Fuuuck!” she squealed, hips writhing beneath me as her hand flew at her cunt. “Fuuuck!”

  But I was intent on burying myself in her, forcing that ass to give it up. So I pressed forward once again and gratifyingly, my dick slipped about two inches up that tight anal canal, the dryness, the friction, such a fucking turn-on, it was so fucking dirty.

  “Fuck baby girl,” I muttered, “feel my dick in you? Feel how it loves your ass?”

  Because my cock was dripping jism now, I hadn’t come yet but I was like a leaky faucet, the good stuff already beginning to run out in a stream, lubing my way in. And grabbing a tit in each hand, seizing huge handfuls, I used them as leverage as I fucked my hips hard this time, pistoning deep up her butt, a relentless, driving fuckpole. And her sphincter popped then, giving it up, letting me in all the way. With a roar and a deep, sensuous slide, I fucked all the way in, my balls pressed up against her ass, the entire ten-inch length clamped between those dry rectal walls.

  “Ohhhh!” she screamed, breasts heaving to the heavens under my hands, eyes open with surprise even as she tossed her head with ecstasy. “Oh fuuuuck!”

  “That’s right, baby girl,” I rasped against her cheek. “Feel that up there? That’s my dick taking your butt, I just took your ass cherry.”

  And the girl just screamed again, boobs heaving, her pussy running like a drain, juice dripping down to lube my cock as I worked it in and out of her back hole.

  “Mmm, fuck,” I ground out, still restraining myself, trying to go slow because this was new to her. “Fuck.”

  But my girl was resilient, a real butt slut, and she egged me on with breathy gasps, shocks of delight lighting her eyes.

  “More,” she huffed. “More, Tucker, I want it deep in my ass.”

  And I was only too happy to oblige. I began to pound her hard then, my balls slapping against her cheeks as I nailed her, again and again and again. And fuck, it felt so fucking good, I could feel her anal walls stroking every inch of my dick, the resistance so dry and tight, that after a few pumps, it was all over.

  “FUUUUCK!” I roared, jetting deep spurts of sperm up her ass. “FUUUCK!” I growled, seizing handfuls of tit flesh as great gusts of white shot up her backside, christening that inner channel with its first taste of pure jizz, its first sample of male virility.

  And the sensational feeling of hot juices spurting into her back chamber forced the girl over the edge as well. Her hand was a motor between her thighs as her butthole clamped down on my dick, shivers of ecstasy shooting out from our anal connection.

  “Ahhh!” Laurie shrieked. “Oh fuck, my butt!”

  And I just trashed it harder, lash after lash of hot white disappearing up that tiny channel, spreading my man milk, seeding her with the fertile brew. The brunette did her part too, her convulsions pulling my sperm deeper inside, up towards her GI tract, every shake of her rectum magnifying the vacuum effect.

  And after it was all over, I collapsed on her plush form, our bodies sweaty, glued together with a sticky film of various fluids.

  “Fuck little girl,” I ground out. “You’re gonna kill me with this sex shit.”

  And the brunette just tittered, her breasts jiggling as they cushioned my chest.

  “I know,” she said sweetly. “And Tucker, I want more, again please.”

  And with that, my dick came again, more semen pumping into her butt, twitching and jerking in her anal chamber. Because what I’d suspected all along was true. This little whore, my personal fuckdoll, was perfect for me in every way.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Laurie

  I yawned, lazily, still in the tub. Tucker would be back soon and it was gonna be good times tonight, the way it is every night. Because I’ve moved in with him in the Tribeca loft, even though it doesn’t really belong to him.

  “But when will your friends be back?” I asked, puzzled. “I mean, wouldn’t it be easier for you to move in with me, so that they don’t walk in on us … on us …” I murmured, a little shy.

  But Tucker finished my sentence.

  “Walk in on us having sex?” he said with an eyebrow lifted. “Baby there’s nothing more that I’d like. Fucking you in public, other dudes watching those tits bounce up and down as my dick goes in, jealous as fuck? That’s my dream, baby girl, that’s my dream.”

  And I just laughed because the big man could be so impossible. Even when I tried to get serious again, he brushed off my question.

  “Don’t worry, they’re sailing the Mediterranean for god knows how long,” he said nonchalantly. “I wouldn’t worry about them coming back and giving us the boot.”

  “But surely they’ll be back sometime,” I said, puzzled. “I mean, this apartment is so gorgeous, who wouldn’t want to live here?”

  But Tucker shrugged.

  “I know right? But it’s their life not ours. And you, baby girl, are moving in stat.”

  And so my stuff was packed up and brought to the loft by movers the next day. Everything happened so quickly, I guess it was good that I’d never unpacked most of my things.

  “Just put her things in the master bedroom,” Tucker directed authoritatively, pointing to a box of my personal items. “Everything into the master.”

  And I just shook my head, sighing. Really? Seems like we were playing house right away, a man and wife snug in their home, taking care of each other, sharing each other’s bodies, each other’s lives. But the alpha male was authoritative, so sure of himself, that I found myself swept along with the tide, more breathless than anything, without time to reflect.

  But I was adamant about at least one thing. I wasn’t giving up my place on the Lower East side no matter what Tucker said.

  “Break your lease,” he growled when he found out. “Why pay rent when you’re living here now?”

  I just sighed gustily.

  “First,” I said, “We have no idea when your friends are gonna be back so we’ll need a place to stay when they do.”

  “Yeah but we could use a hotel,” he interrupted. “That’s what hotels are for.”

  I shook my head. The big man seemed to have a complete
ly different relationship with money than me, with the way he’d signed off on the thousand dollar moving bill, how nonchalant he was about putting up good money every night to rest our heads.

  “Tucker, hotels are expensive and besides we couldn’t fit all this into a hotel room,” I said wryly, gesturing to the boxes. “We don’t have that much, but still, this isn’t gonna fit in one room.”

  But the big man shrugged, unconcerned.

  “We’ll find a way,” he said carelessly, “We’ll figure it out, it’s just logistics,” he winked. I shook my head, sighing. Of course, as part of the concierge industry, Tucker took all this in a stride, getting people and things to different places was his specialty after all. But the big man wasn’t done yet. He frowned at me for a moment, studying my outfit. I was dressed in a plain black skirt and white blouse for work, nothing fancy, my shoes a little scuffed but still serviceable.

  “Baby girl, you don’t have many clothes, your things probably would fit in a hotel closet,” he said wryly. “In fact, I always see you wearing the same stuff and that’s no way for my best girl to live. Here,” he reached a big hand for his wallet. “Go shopping and buy yourself some nice outfits, treat yourself,” he said with a smile.

  And I was touched to the bottom of my soul, but I couldn’t take money from a delivery man, someone who probably needed every cent he had. The offer of carte blanche was kind, but far too generous.

  “I appreciate the gesture, I really do. But it’s okay,” I said gently. “City government’s not a fancy place, my clothes are fine for my job.”

  But Tucker shook his head again, a stubborn frown appearing on that handsome face.

  “No honey,” he growled low in his throat. “I see you wearing drab office clothes, and that’s not how my best girl lives. Buy yourself something new,” he said persuasively. “A couple new things, heck, a whole new wardrobe if you want. Here,” he said again, pressing the plastic into my hand. “Take it,” he growled roughly.

  And my fingers closed because it was easier not to fight. Besides, I didn’t have to use it, the credit card could stay in my purse just to appease my lover. But as I curled my fist, I realized this item wasn’t your average rewards card. It wasn’t heavy for one, made of metal instead of plastic, and the surface was a matte metallic rose, glinting slightly in the light.

  “What is this?” I asked curiously. I’d never seen something like this before, and I squinted a little, trying to read the print. The words read “JP Morgan” in script on the upper right corner, but everything else looked normal, just a Visa logo and a chip embedded on the left side.

  “Yeah, pretty awesome, right?” said the big man, an eyebrow raised. “I get so much grief for the pink color, the guys are always saying that no real man would use it,” he said, rolling his eyes.

  I squinted at the card again. It was incredibly beautiful and classy-looking, a deep grey overlaid with blush and I ran my fingers over the smooth, cold surface. Where did something like this come from? How did Tucker get it?

  But the big man just chuckled, reading my mind.

  “Baby, I get so many miles from that account, it’s like they’re paying me to use it,” he said with a smirk. “Take it,” he added again persuasively. “Even if you don’t wanna buy more work clothes, at least buy some new lingerie for yourself babe. We’ve ruined so many of your panties, you must be down to nothing now.”

  And I blushed, sliding his card in my purse. It was true, our sex play was often so adventurous, so naughty, that my panties got trashed all the time, not to mention that they were soaked through so often that I had to change in the women’s restroom at work so the smell wouldn’t alert my co-workers to my constantly wet cunt.

  “Okay,” I murmured, nodding. “Will do,” I agreed with a shy nod.

  And that was that. Tucker definitely had a way with words, a way of persuading me to do anything and everything he wanted, in bed and out.

  But there was still the issue about my old apartment. I was determined to keep my place on the LES in case things didn’t work out, in case I needed a hidey hole to lick my wounds, a retreat when the going got tough.

  So taking a deep breath, I confronted the issue head on. And I used all my weapons. I waited until we were in bed, Tucker at his most vulnerable, his most pliable, to make my case.

  “I’m not giving up my lease,” I said slowly, taking a deep breath. I wanted to be transparent and open in this relationship, not hide things from the get-go. “I know my stuff’s here now, but I’m keeping my old place just in case,” I said slowly.

  The big man lifted an eyebrow at me.

  “Why?” he said smoothly.

  “Well, you know,” I answered helplessly. “What if we don’t get along? I mean, we practically just met, who knows if we’re really compatible?”

  There was truth to those words but the big man wasn’t hearing it.

  “You think we’re incompatible?” he growled, nodding downwards. Because we’d just had a hot session and his dick was still in my ass, still deep up my rectal canal, tickling me, making me stretch with ecstasy.

  I clenched my anal muscles, hoping to punish him but that only made him groan with pleasure.

  “No seriously,” I said, mock threatening. “We only just met and I can’t take the chance. I mean, I’m a divorcee, I’m sensitive okay? If you’d walked the gauntlet like I did, you’d also want some insurance.”

  And that made Tucker stop for a moment, looking deep in my eyes as he paused.

  “You think I’m like your ex?” he rumbled casually, too casual.

  “No of course not!” I sighed. Geez, he could be so clueless sometimes. “I wouldn’t be with you, would never have moved my stuff in if you were like Gary,” I said softly. “But once burned, twice shy, I always buy insurance now.”

  And Tucker just shook his head, looking at me contemplatively, taking in my face, my breasts, my narrow waist.

  “Little girl,” he said harshly. “I would never do that to you, I’d never treat you the way Gary did,” he said, his voice filled with emotion. “In fact, I’ll fuck up anyone who hurts you, you know that.”

  And I reflected on his words for a moment.

  “I know Tucker, but if you were the one who hurt me, would you pay the price, go through hell to get me back, show you’re sorry?”

  And the big man nodded.

  “That’s a good question,” he said seriously. “And I understand why you’re asking, you’ve been through hell and back,” he paused for a moment. “But the answer is yes, absolutely yes, I’d walk through coals if I hurt you, I’d never forgive myself. The problem is internal, honey,” he said gently. “You’re amazing but your self-confidence is wrecked because of what happened with Gary,” he spat the name.

  I pondered for a moment.

  “You think so?” I asked slowly. “You think that I’ve lost perspective on life because of what I’ve been through? That I’m settling for less?”

  And the big man growled then.

  “Well, I don’t know if you’re settling, you’re with me after all,” he said with a sly grin, always confident and assured. “I mean, would you say that you’re settling now?” he asked roughly, grinding his hips against my butt cheeks. And I sighed again, feeling his big shaft move even deeper up my ass, the tip reaching up my GI tract, making me feel good, unable to reply.

  And Tucker just chuckled, sensing my paralysis.

  “See honey? You have to understand, you’re vulnerable,” he continued as I panted. “You’re amazing baby, and don’t let that fuckwad ex of yours make you think otherwise. If I hurt you, I’d be the first one to kick my own ass.”

  And he was so genuine, the emotion so strong in his eyes that I forced myself back to reality, taking his face between my palms, cupping that strong jaw.

  “I know, Tucker, I know,” I murmured against his lips. “And that’s why I want to do something special for you.”

  I kissed him deeply, once, twice, feeling h
is dick twitch in my ass, come back to life and moaned breathily into his mouth before shifting my hips back, pulling back my pelvis so that his cock slid out. Oh fuck, it looked good, the hot pink man meat slightly chafed from my dryness, slicks of white cum on the side.

  And reaching over to my nightstand, I picked up the bottle of wine we’d been sharing. We’d had a luxurious dinner and brought the wine upstairs to savor in bed before getting naked, the ultimate in decadence, lying between the satin sheets while swilling a full-bodied, rich Cabernet.

  “This was an expensive bottle honey, thank you for getting it for us,” I purred, looking up at him between my lashes.

  He kissed me then, our lips locking, his tongue flickering deep into my mouth, the remnants of the cab still there, tangy notes of red grape mixed with hints of citrus.

  “You like?” he growled. “I picked it up at that new place down the street, you know the one that has about a million selections, it’s a fucking cellar.”

  And I giggled then because that was perfect.

  “Oh good,” I purred. “A good selection is important because look honey, look what I’m doing, this is all for you.”

  And Tucker’s eyes were rapt as he stared at me. With a slow, languorous slide of my tongue, I licked the bottleneck suggestively, like I was hungry and it was a huge dick to be consumed. I swirled my tongue around the green glass, leaving moist slicks of saliva, and once it was lubed and ready, I guided the green bottle down my body until the head pointed at my pussy.

  “Fuck me with it, big boy?” I invited. “Push it into my cunt?”

  And Tucker was only too happy to oblige. His big hands seized the wine bottle, gripping it tight as I hoisted one leg over his shoulder to spread myself wider, give him better access.

  “Fuck baby, you’re so wet,” he rumbled, staring at my pussy hungrily, licking his lips as if anticipating the taste, and with a quick flick of his wrist, the bottle was in.

  “Ohhh fuuck,” I moaned gutturally, the cool glass going hard up my swollen walls. The neck was dick-sized but otherwise the sensation was completely different, the makeshift penis cool and smooth with no ridges, no hotly beating veins. But still it filled me and felt fucking good in my vag, I started juicing relentlessly.

 

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