by Tia Siren
I ate her like a pussy pie.
My tongue slithered up and down, from the top of her shaved clit to the indent of her sweet asshole. I paused each time to swirl my tongue into her pussy hole. Each time I did, it gushed juices onto my tongue. Hot and tangy. I lapped them up like a man dying of thirst.
With my hands under her ass, I used my thumbs again to spread her pussy lips. I stuck out my long tongue like a hard cock and tongue-fucked her until she bucked her hips into my face and exploded into my mouth. Hot juices squirted from within her, filling my mouth like drinking from a hose, washing over my cheeks and chin. She grabbed my hair as she came and writhed, pushing her cunt to my face. It was all I could do not to come with her.
“You,” she moaned, reaching for me. “I want your big cock in my pussy…please…now…”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Olivia
Holy fucking shit… I had never come so hard in my life. Cain had my ass in his hands and my pussy pressed to his face and his tongue in my hole… When the orgasm hit, I literally thought my heart was about to stop.
I reached for him, begging him to fuck me. He smiled at me. His face was covered with my goo. It glistened on his cheeks and he licked it from his lips.
“Do you want to taste yourself?” he asked as he climbed on top of me. His face hovered over mine. I could smell the tang of my juices on his face. I opened my mouth and licked his lips, and then I put my hands to his ears and pressed my mouth to his. I could taste my pussy on his lips and tongue. I moaned because it nearly made me come again.
I reached down and took his huge cock and guided the head to my hole. I brought my legs up to wrap around him. He moved his hips forward and his cock slid into me and didn’t stop until it reached the end of the line. I swear, I could feel him in my chest and throat.
“Oh…fuck...” I moaned. Cain’s was the largest cock I had ever had in my hand, my mouth, and now my pussy. I wasn’t sure I could take him up my ass, but maybe we could work up to that next time. For now, I just wanted him inside my cunt, filling me to the max with his powerful manhood.
“Does that feel good, baby?” he asked as he slowly moved in and out of me. “Do you love having my cock inside you?”
“Yes,” I sighed. “Amazing.”
“Tell me,” he said. “Tell me how much you love having my big cock in your sweet pussy.”
“I love…your…big...cock.”
The words came in gusts, pushed out of me each time his cock thrust deep into me. I moaned through the sighs. I dug my fingernails into his back and dragged them down to his ass, leaving my mark on his flesh.
“Do you want me to fuck you hard?” he asked. He braced his palms on the bed and pushed himself up as his hips quickened their pace.
“Yes. Fuck me…hard...Cain… Hard…as you…can.”
I opened my eyes to catch him smiling down at me. He dug his teeth into his lower lip and began pummeling his cock into my cunt as hard as he could without hurting me, driving into me so hard that my big boobs flopped on my chest. I grabbed them between my hands and pushed them together, holding my nipples between my thumbs and forefingers.
I held my breath as I felt the orgasm building deep inside my womb, primed to explode with every thrust of his cock.
“I’m…coming,” I said, the words heavy on my breath. “Come with me…Cain…come…”
Cain closed his eyes. I watched his muscles flex as he slammed his cock harder into me. He threw back his head like a wolf and howled as he came.
I closed my eyes and dug my heels into his ass. My fingernails left long scratches down his sides and back. We came together, him filling my pussy with his hot, milky cum as my wave of juices gushed out and over his balls and down the crack of my ass.
One more deep thrust, one more quick gasp, and it was over, at least for now. He blew out a long breath and lowered his lips to mine. His cock was still inside me. I could feel his pulse against the walls of my pussy.
“You’re amazing,” he said, breathing into my mouth.
“So are you,” I said with a smile. “Was this part of the demo?”
He grinned at me. “No, baby. This was part of the deal.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Olivia
The next few weeks were a blur as Cain took me by the hand and led me into his world.
“You’re going to be a star,” he kept telling me. “With your voice and my guidance, we’re going to make you famous.”
The VP of A&R at BEG (holy shit, how many abbreviations could I use) loved the demos I cut and wanted to immediately put me under contract. Since I didn’t have a clue about such things, I relied on Cain to guide me through the maze.
We had spent every night together for two weeks, and I trusted him completely. If he told me to sign something, I signed it. If he told me to sing something, I sang it. If he told me to suck his cock while he was on the phone with the president, I would have sucked it.
Eagerly.
Gladly.
Without doubting he had my best interests at heart.
Mona told me not to trust him so easily, but I didn’t listen to her.
She told me I was thinking with my cunt and not my brain.
She told me not to fall in love with him.
She warned me, but her words fell on deaf ears.
Speaking of Mona, when I told her about the demo I had cut without her and Des, I’d expected her to be pissed. Instead, she was thrilled for me.
“Jesus, Liv, I’m not a goddamn drummer,” she said. “I was just doing that because you asked me to.”
“Really? Oh, thank god!” I said, giving her a big hug, thrilled she wasn’t mad.
“Just remember who your real friends are when you hit it big,” she said. “And you have to make me your high-paid personal assistant, like that gay dude Drew.”
“I’ll do that,” I said, meaning it. When I told Des the news, she just shrugged and said whatever. Mona told me later that Des was living with the lead mohawk motherfucker, whose band had yet to even cut a demo at BEG because a certain new star was taking up all the studio time. Oh well, so sorry, fuck you very much.
“I have to go,” I said, giving Mona another hug. “Cain invited me over for dinner. He’s going to cook for me. And then tomorrow I’m meeting with Cain and his marketing people to talk about scheduling, whatever that means. So don’t wait up!”
She grinned as she walked me to the door. She put her hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eye. “I’m honestly happy for you, Liv,” she said seriously. “Just be careful.”
I frowned at her. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you know how these rich music people are. I mean, especially Cain Bohannon. He’s not the kind of guy who settles down with one woman.”
I scoffed at her. “Mona, are you talking about that stupid fuck list?” I put my hands on her cheeks and smiled. “There is no fuck list. It was just a publicity stunt Cain’s assistant pulled. I’ve asked Cain about it and he swears to me it was just a hoax. There is no fuck list.”
“Okay. I hope you’re right,” she said, pulling me in for one last hug. I could tell she didn’t believe me. That was fine. I knew Cain wouldn’t lie to me.
The fuck list was just a myth.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: Cain
When I opened the door for Liv, I felt my mouth drop. She was gorgeous, wearing a little black dress with a high neck line. It was elegant, but I was fully aware that her beautiful boobs lay underneath.
And Liv laughed at me. “You look like a sexy chef in your apron,” she said as she brushed by me into the hallway.
I had set the table to impress. Candles, flowers, the works. But as I was serving her salad, I realized that all this preparation wasn’t just to keep her in my bed. I really did enjoy spending time with her. I had never spent so much time, or so many nights with the same name on my list.
After dinner, I invited her to play the piano with me. I switched the lights off and let the moonlight shine in through the giant wi
ndows. We played around like kids, banging out a funny duet with our arms all tangled up.
And as I laughed, I couldn’t help feeling, well, guilty. I had denied the existence of my fuck list. I had lied to Liv to get her into bed. And it had worked. But what I hadn’t bargained for was to actually develop feelings for her. What started out as lust was turning into admiration and something deeper.
“Let me play something for you,” Liv said. I placed my hands in my lap and listened to her sing. She played the piano nearly almost as well as the guitar. I watched her as she closed her eyes and strained her face to hit the high notes. Her voice was lovelier than a chorus of doves, and I wanted to listen to it for a long time to come.
But a lump in my gut was tormenting me. I would either have to tell her the truth about the list, or erase it completely. But I wasn’t prepared to do either.
If I told her the truth, I would risk a slap in the face and losing her.
And if I erased the list from my phone, then I would feel like I was erasing so much personal history, a part of me that signified who I was. I knew it was stupid, but my ego wasn’t prepared to let go of all those women.
But I knew I would have to do something. Liv was quickly becoming more important to me than all the women on my list put together.
Liv finished her song and glanced over at me with a look of satisfaction. She knew she was talented.
“Come on, my singing angel,” I said, bringing her hand to my lips. “Let’s get to bed. We have an important day tomorrow, and before we sleep, I want to make love to you for a few hours.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: Olivia
Cain led me into a conference room that had a long table and a dozen chairs around it. Ten of the chairs were filled with people from BEG’s marketing department. We were coming together to talk about how my album would be marketed when it “dropped” in a few months. Turned out dropped was an industry term. It meant when the album was released. I didn’t know why they didn’t just say released. I guessed dropped sounded cooler. There was still so much about this business that confused the shit out of me.
I mainly did what I had done in every meeting over the last few weeks. I sat and listened and pretended like I had a clue what they were talking about. Mostly I just played with my phone and wiggled like an impatient child in my seat, waiting for Cain to take me home so we could play some more.
“Okay, that all sounds fine,” said Cain, who sitting at the head of the table. Everyone had their phone or a tablet in front of them with their calendar programs open, setting dates for various things that had to happen when the album was ready to drop.
Cain had his phone between his hands and was looking at the calendar as he spoke. “So, we’re looking to drop on September 1. Anything else?” When no one spoke up, he set his phone on the table and held out his hands. “Okay, meeting adjourned. Go to work.”
Everyone got up and streamed out the door. Cain and I started to get up, and then Drew stuck his head in. He pointed at Cain. “Hey, before you leave for the day, can you look at some cover art for Katie Berry’s next album? It’ll take two seconds.”
“Sure,” Cain said. He leaned over and brushed his lips to my cheek. Then he picked up his phone and slid it into his pocket. “Back in a minute and we’ll get dinner.”
“Sounds great,” I said, sighing like a lovesick schoolgirl as I watched him follow Drew out the door.
I picked up my phone to check my email.
“What the…”
It took me a minute to realize Cain had taken my phone and I had his. I started to get up and say something, and then that damn little voice whispered in my ear. Strangely enough, the little voice sounded an awful lot like Mona.
I could hear her saying, “Radar Online says he keeps the fuck list on his phone.”
I glanced at the doorway. The coast was clear. I slid open Cain’s phone. I had no idea what software he’d use to keep a fuck list, so I opened the apps and clicked on Spreadsheets. When the program launched, I looked at recent documents.
My breath caught in my throat.
There it was at the very top.
A filed called The Fuck List.
I felt my heart cease in my chest.
“Son of a bitch,” I whispered, tapping the file to open it.
And there it was.
Cain Bohannon’s infamous fuck list.
I guessed I should have been flattered. My name was listed at number one. I guessed he hadn’t taken the time to update the list since he’d lied his way into my head, my pussy, and my life.
Now it all made sense, his sudden interest in me, taking me under his wing, mentoring me, signing me to BEG. Fuck, why didn’t I see it before? There were a million singers more talented than me. I was just the one Cain Bohannon wanted to fuck at that moment. What happened when the new wore off and he moved on down the list? Shit, really? Taylor fucking Swift?
I fought back the angry tears that were burning my eyes. I quickly erased my name from the list and typed in a special message for Cain. I set the phone on the conference room table and then grabbed my bag and slipped out the door.
Cain Bohannon got what he wanted.
And I got fucked.
CHAPTER NINETEEN: Cain
When I came back into the conference room, Liv wasn’t there. I turned to Drew, who had followed me in. “Did you see Liv in the hallway? Where did she go?”
“Beats me,” he said with his usual apathy. “I was with you.” There was a cell phone on the table. Drew picked it up and slid open the screen. His mouth literally dropped open.
He said, “Um, whose cell phone do you have in your pocket?”
I blinked at the question. “I have my cell phone,” I said, reaching inside my jacket. I slid open the screen and then realized why he’d asked the question. “This is Liv’s phone.”
“I think I might know why she left,” he said, handing over my phone. I stared at the screen.
The fuck list was open.
Liv’s name had been at the number one spot.
Now it read: FUCK YOUR LIST AND FUCK YOU!!!!
CHAPTER TWENTY: Olivia
God bless Mona.
When I showed up back at the apartment with tears in my eyes and a knife in my heart, she never once said “I told you so.” She just gave me a big hug and pulled me inside and locked the door to keep the world at bay.
Even when I got angry and wailed about how Cain Bohannon fucked me just so he could mark me off his list, she just handed me another tissue and let me vent. That meant the world to me. There would soon be enough people laughing their asses off at the naïve young singer who had been marked off Cain’s fuck list. I didn’t need my best friend making me feel any more moronic than I already felt.
Thankfully, Rusty gave me my old job back waitressing at the Rusty Nail. He never asked what happened or why I was back, though I was pretty sure Mona filled him in.
Even the mohawk motherfucker was nice to me when he came in to play with his band, now called the Mohawk Motherfuckers (Des told him it was her idea, whatever). His first-prize BEG contract had yet to be signed, so we formed a kind of kinship of losers who had been screwed by Cain Bohannon and his company of evil douchebags.
It had been a week and I hadn’t heard a word from Cain or anyone at BEG regarding the contract I had signed. Mona reminded me that Cain had my cell phone, so he couldn’t call me. Nor did he know where I lived, so he couldn’t just drop by. Though I knew he could find me if he really wanted to. And that was the point. He didn’t want to find me. He’d marked Olivia Poole off his list and moved on. Now he could focus his efforts on nailing Taylor Swift. Taylor fucking Swift. Seriously? Wasn’t she, like, twelve?
Mona warned me that he would show up at the club, but I knew better. Cain had gotten what he wanted. I was just another starlet to be fucked and stricken from the list.
I might have been a horny, starry-eyed little girl when I met Cain Bohannon, but not anymore. Now I was Olivia Poole, har
d-nosed, punk-rocking bitch, and if he showed his face at the club, he’d leave with his balls kicked into his throat.
* * *
“Hey, Liv. The opening act just canceled on me,” Rusty said, rushing to the bar in panic mode. He nodded at the packed house behind him. They were already rowdy and ready for the show to start. “This fucking crowd will tear the place down if I don’t get someone onstage soon.”
I picked up the full tray of drinks from the bar and gave him a confused look. “So why are you telling me this?”
“I need you to go on,” he said, his hands flailing in the air. “I need you onstage now!”
I set down the tray of drinks and shook my head at him. “Rusty, I don’t do that anymore. I’m not a singer. There is no band. I’m just a waitress.”
“Bullshit,” he said, spitting the word. “Look, I’m sorry things didn’t work out with you and that Bohannon cocksucker, but you are a singer. You’re a great fucking singer. Don’t let what happened with that son of a bitch kill your dreams, Liv. You’re too good to let that happen.”
“Rusty, look, Mona and Des aren’t even here and—”
“Fuck Mona and Des!” he snapped. He took my hands and gave me a pleading look. “I need you on that stage. Now. Please. Go up and sing whatever you like. Just get up there. Please. For me.”
I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. I hadn’t sung a note since the last session in the studio two weeks before. I’d never even been onstage alone. The prospect of it made my stomach churn. Everybody already thought I was an idiot. The last thing I needed was to get onstage and puke on the audience.
“Liv,” he said, tugging my hands. “Please. For me.”
“Fuck, okay,” I said, shaking my head. “Let me deliver these drinks and I’ll go up.”
“Fuck that,” he said. He waved at Sherry, who was across the bar. “Sherry can deliver the drinks. You get your guitar and get ready to play.”
I could taste vomit in my throat as I watched him cut through the crowd toward the stage. I asked Sherry to cover my tables for a few minutes, and then I went backstage to find a guitar.
