by Dark Angel
The force of my orgasm sends shockwaves all through my body that made me arch my back hard and suddenly. While I'm cumming, Derek pulls his cock slowly out of my still dripping, fluttering pussy. He lowers my legs and walks up to stand beside my face. I look up at his cock covered in my cum, and I open my mouth wide to swallow every drop of Derek's orgasm. He fists that massive cock to jerk out a mess around my tits and then my face before more of the considerable load finally makes it to my tongue between my parted lips.
I love every minute of it. I’m like pure animal over here, rubbing the cum all over my breasts like lotion because I’m aching to be covered in every drop of our lust. I catch some on my tongue. Leaving my mouth open so Derek can watch the show I put on, I swirl the cum around in my mouth.
As Derek lowers his cock toward my mouth, he can see the cum dripping from the edges of my lips. Derek uses his fingers to scoop it up and draw his cum onto my tongue. I bring my mouth up to meet the head of his cock. Derek shakes as I wrap my warm sticky mouth around it. I love the feel of his massive cock in my mouth, tasting like our cum together. I wrap my hands around his shaft and begin to jerk it steady and slow while staring into his eyes.
Derek gives in and starts to fuck my face hard, with every powerful thrust getting that huge head closer to the back of my throat. I run my fingers under his shaft making my way to his balls.
I feel that tingling all over again, with his cock buried deep in my throat it feels like the world is spinning around me. I become lost in that erotic bliss, the sheer pleasure of raw lust controlling our movements and dragging us toward nothing but desire. The nerves dancing through my body now draw the aching in my pussy to grow stronger with every tug of his mouth on my clit.
Derek places his hands on my breasts and raises them to his mouth, pushing them together so he can get both of my achingly hard nipples into his mouth.
Derek sucks his cum off of my nipples while stroking my breasts with his tongue. His hands trace the curve of my hips and around my belly button lightly dragging his fingers across the rest of my stomach. His mouth closes over mine, kissing me so that we can both taste the incredible cum we've both produced.
I love that he's just so filthy—not every man would be willing to get his cum in his mouth and, like, that's ridiculous considering they want us to swallow it. But I'd do just about any dirty thing with Derek and my only thought would be more.
I've never craved anyone or anything the way that I crave him.
Derek traces his fingers up and down my stomach. He breaks our kiss, sucking my lower lip for a second and then his mouth is back on my breasts. He starts running his tongue across both of my nipples before putting them in between his teeth and tugging ever so gently on them.
Derek's hands slide further down my body to between my legs. He touches my swollen lips gently before parting them with the tips of his fingers. Touching my clit with the tip of his thumb, it doesn’t take much for my pussy to cream all over his fingers again, covering his fingers completely and making them slick and sticky. Derek pulls his fingers out and places them in his mouth, licking them clean. The sight is so erotic I actually moan just watching him.
The last call comes blaring through on the P.A system. Shit, we have completely lost track of time! Okay, yes, I do recall hearing the DJ call for me earlier. If it sounded like his voice was underwater, drowned out by my lust, well right now the reality that it's 4 am and closing time is an earthquake, leveling everything in my brain.
"I have to go!" I say, a sharp departure from the moan only seconds ago was filling the air.
"Wait, give me your number!" Derek looks shocked, and I can tell he was as separated from reality as I was. "I have to have you again." His voice is a low growl that I feel all over my skin.
Frantically, I slide off my sticky thong and jot down my number quickly with a permanent marker that just happens to be in this room—my phone isn't with me because they don't allow those in the V.I.P. room.
"I was so wet when I had that on," I say as if that's the appropriate response to the wild evening we've just had. As I'm trying to run out, I see Derek sniff the soaked fabric.
"Oh, I'll remember your scent." Derek's voice has the power to make me wet all over again...as if there hasn't been a moment in his presence I wasn't drenched.
Fuck, that's when I whip out of the VIP room, and when I dash out the door, I realize I really just gave that guy my thong, so my bare ass is out. I stand on the floor, stupefied. I fucked a client and walked out of the VIP room after I gave him my bottoms and I missed final call. I missed my call to the stage. Fuck!
Derek
I don’t think I’ve ever felt this completely satisfied before. Strolling out of the VIP room, I can’t keep the smirk off my face. Sapphire was incredible. So much better than any woman I’ve ever been with in my life.
So hot, so sexy, a total wild thing coming apart in my hands.
Her screams of ecstasy are still ringing in my ears as I make my way across the club.
“Yo, Derek!”
I turn and find that a couple of my friends are still here, girls draped all over them.
“Dude, the place is about to close,” one of them calls. “Hope you got some.”
I grin, sure that it’s written all over my face. I got way more than any of those jokers, that’s for damn sure.
“Don’t you want to know.” I stop at the table, not really wanting to talk to anyone. Just wanting to keep reliving this night in my head over and over.
A stripper moves from my friend’s lap and walks toward me, her heavy-lidded eyes full of desire. She taps my chin with a manicured nail. “I can take care of you if you want to leave satisfied.”
I move away from her, not even looking at her as I say, “More than satisfied, thanks.”
She pouts, and I look past her, tipping my chin at my boys as I turn to leave. “Catch you later.”
The cocktail waitress from earlier stops me as I’m almost to the door. “Anything else I can get for you tonight?” she purrs, her voice heavy with meaning.
I shake my head, pushing past her. “I’m good.”
More than good. I’m fucking great. Perfect, really. And for the first time I can remember—probably forever—I can’t get my mind off the woman I just fucked.
What the hell does that even mean? I don’t even know.
I step outside and walk to my limo, still parked right out front. Yet another perk of being a prince; no waiting around when I’m ready to go. Sinking into the leather seats, I tell my driver to take me home.
He looks a little surprised that I’m alone. But what the fuck am I going to do? Grab some slut and fuck her in the limo while I still have the smell of Sapphire all over me? Hell no. Even though I might've before. But after Sapphire? I can’t even.
Shit, she was so fucking wet, cumming all over me, that I’m sure my cock is coated in her scent. My cock twitches with the thought.
I shove my hand in my pocket and finger the lacy thong she gave me, a cocky grin spreading across my lips. The fact I got her number has me reeling.
What, you think I have a phone full of hot chicks at the ready? I could if I wanted to. But I don’t. It’s not fucking necessary. I don’t fuck the same pussy twice, and if I want to get some, all I have to do is step out my door. They’re always there begging, everywhere I go.
But I got her number. No fucking way was I leaving without it. For the first time ever, I want to go back for more. I will go back for more. Because a taste of her wasn’t enough. It’s like she seeped into my blood tonight, a drug that I’m hooked on instantly, unable to think of anything but my next fix.
The limo pulls up to One57, and I jump out and head for the elevators leading up to my penthouse. Nothing but the best for the billionaire Prince of St. Albans.
When I walk through my door, I barely register the multi-million-dollar view through the glass that completely encases my apartment, floor-to-ceiling windows looking out on Manhatta
n as if it’s my own personal kingdom. Practically is. Tonight I don’t give a fuck.
All I want to do is lose myself in my memories of Sapphire and that perfect pussy. That perfect body. Every fucking thing about her is pure perfection.
What does it mean that I can’t get her out of my head?
I don’t know how to handle what’s going on with me. First I talk to her like she’s more than just a quick fuck, then I get her number, and now I’m desperate to be back inside her.
Not once in my life has this happened before.
I pace the length of my condo, bracing my hands on the glass that looks out over Central Park, but all I see is her. That body writhing in pleasure. That face lost in the moment, my cock buried so deep inside of her.
I groan, rock-hard from just the memory. I’m too keyed up to sleep, so I push away from the window and stride to my bar to make a drink. Just as I lift it to my lips, my phone rings.
I pull it out of my pocket in a frenzy, hoping it’s her. But fuck, she didn’t get my number. I just have hers.
When I see the name and picture on the screen, I want to hurl the damn thing across the room.
Melissa.
Why the fuck will she not stop calling me? It’s been over a year, and she still thinks things are going to work out. She’s the absolute worst of all the clingy, desperate women wanting a piece of me, and I never ever fucked her.
As part of the Court of St. Albans, she’s one of the few eligible women my father picked out for me to marry. I grind my teeth at the thought. No fucking way will I marry her. Ever. She’s needy and manipulative. A total bitch.
Always pissy because I won’t fuck her. So certain she could sink her claws into me if I did, thinking that would guarantee her place by my side. All she wants is to be the princess. Just like all the rest.
That’s why they’re all so expendable. No need keeping them around for more than one good fuck when all they really want is a way in. A ticket to the good life.
I silence my phone and toss it aside. Not wanting to let her ruin my mood, I pull Sapphire’s thong from my pocket, fingering the delicate lace.
She’s different. She seemed genuinely interested in me. Asking questions like she actually cared. And she doesn’t have a clue who I am.
A smile tugs at my mouth. I can’t wait to see her again. Lifting the thong to my nose, I breathe in deeply, inhaling her scent.
The perfect aroma of sweetness and sex, her scent sinks into my bones and I sigh.
I miss her already.
Ella
Backstage again, the club is closed now, and I suddenly remember I’m not wearing a thong. I smile. That went home with Derek. A shiver races over my body as I remember him lifting it to his nose and smelling it, telling me he could smell me. A look of lust on his face like he loved my scent.
God, I feel crazy. I can’t believe I had sex with a client. It was totally stupid. Totally irresponsible. But I can’t bring myself to regret it. I’d do it all over again. He was so good, so huge, and thick. I’ve never cum like that before, and I know I won’t be satisfied until I have his cock inside me again.
I hear commotion around the corner, and my stomach clenches. Not having on a thong is suddenly the least of my problems. I’m about to come face-to-face with the House Mom and I have to answer for why I didn’t go out on stage when I was called. Dancers have to go on stage. Always.
I could lose my job for this. Even though I have a ton of money set aside, I still need this job. I don’t want to start all over, especially not somewhere else. This is the best club in Manhattan.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves, and reach up to smooth my hair. I can’t let anyone know what actually went down tonight. Sleeping with Derek is even worse of a mistake than not going onstage. But somehow, that feels wrong. How could being with him like that be a mistake?
It can’t be. It’s not. I realize I’d do it all over again in spite of the consequences I might be about to face.
But I still have to figure out how I’m going to get out of this mess.
Because I just realized I didn’t collect any money from Derek. Not once the whole night. Not after the outrageously expensive private dance I gave him, and not after what happened later. Though I would never collect money for sex.
I hang back while the other girls report to the House Mom and tip out on all of their earnings from the night, trying to figure out how I’m going to get out of this.
“Ella,” she says, her eyes falling on me, full of scrutiny. “Come here.”
I slowly approach her as she consults her clipboard that has every client and every dance accounted for.
Her sharp eyes snap back to me. “You were missing from the stage.”
“I had a VIP client,” I stammer, hoping she can’t see how nervous I am.
“Hmm, I see that. You telling me you were giving him a private dance that entire time? For hours?”
I shrug. “He wanted the most expensive dance I could provide.”
Her eyes narrow like she’s not sure she believes me, and she tells me how much I owe. It’s more than I’ve ever had to tip out before because of the obscene cost of that dance. “And I’m adding on more as a fine for you going missing from the stage.”
A sigh of relief works its way up—I’m not getting fired!—before my throat locks up with the realization that I can’t tip out that much. It’s more than I collected from all my other clients combined from the first half of the night.
“I— um— I can’t—” the words won’t come, and the suspicions the House Mom has had all over her face from the minute I walked up seem to solidify in her mind.
Her expression hardens and she puts a hand on her hip. “Did you collect the money?”
I cringe, not knowing what to say. I can’t lie about it. I’m sure the truth is written all over my face. I didn’t collect any money. I think part of me simply couldn’t take anything from him, even for the private dance, after what happened between us. It would have cheapened it when I feel like it was so much more than a random hookup.
“You had sex with him, didn’t you, Ella?” she demands.
I drop my head, not even bothering trying to answer or offer an excuse. She won’t understand that what happened tonight wasn’t normal. That something different—something special—happened. She doesn’t care about any of that. All she cares about is collecting the money and making sure we follow the rules.
Rules that I’ve broken left and right all night. Unable to stop myself.
I’m fired.
I know it. She doesn’t tolerate anyone fucking a client. And still, in spite of all of it, knowing I’ve lost my job, I don’t regret it.
She holds out her hand and wiggles her fingers. “Give me your phone, Ella.”
And that’s that. It’s that simple. And that complicated. Because I just gave up my job for a night with Derek.
I swallow hard and blink back my tears. Then I nod and turn silently, going toward the dressing room where my phone is stored in my locker.
I take her the phone, then return to the dressing room to change and clean out my stuff, knowing it will be my last time in here.
“What’s going on, Ella?” my friend Misti says as she peels off her fake eyelashes.
“I just got fired,” I say miserably.
Misti and some other girls gasp. “What? You’re the best one here. What happened?”
“I slept with Derek.”
Her eyes go wide. “Derek? As in the guy you did the private dance for? Derek, Prince of St. Albans?”
My eyebrows draw together in confusion. “What? No. I mean, yeah, the guy I danced for, but he’s just Derek.”
Misti shakes her head excitedly. “No, Ella. He’s not just Derek. He’s a fucking prince.” She looks at me in awe like I’m the celebrity here.
I’m so confused. A prince? He didn’t tell me that. How is that even possible? I mean, he did act like he owned the whole damn world, but still.
A prince?
I feel like my whole world has been rocked, and not just because he totally rocked it with that magic cock.
In a daze, I change clothes and pull my wig off, staring at myself in the mirror as my long blonde hair tumbles down around my shoulders.
This night has been the craziest of my entire life.
Derek
Seated in a roped off booth in an exclusive rooftop restaurant with my friend, Ryder, one of the guys from the club last night, I look over the lunch menu. But I barely see it. My mind is still fully consumed with Sapphire.
“You’re kidding, right?” Ryder asks, taking a sip of his whiskey.
Not at all. I shake my head, about to tell him my plan, when the waitress appears. I pick something at random.
“I’m dead serious, man,” I say when the waitress is gone. I take a sip of my own drink. I thought about this all night long, not able to sleep. Sapphire’s special. It was obvious from the minute we first locked eyes across the club. Even more so the more time I spent with her.
“You want to marry a girl you just met? A stripper, no less.” Ryder shakes his head and laughs. “I think you’ve lost one too many brain cells. All that blood draining to your dick 23 hours of the day has seriously impaired your judgment.”
“Say what you want, dude. I think she’s the one.”
It’s so perfect. It makes total sense to me. The whole reason I’ve been resisting going back to St. Albans and marrying isn’t because I’m opposed to marriage like I thought. It isn’t even because I want to live it up and enjoy my freedom, finding a new pussy to spear every night. The only reason I’ve been living my life like this is because I’ve never found a girl that I would be happy to settle down with.
Until now.
Now I can’t even imagine going out and finding some gold-digger just to get my dick wet. All I want is her. I shove my hand in my pocket, caressing that lace thong like it’s a lifeline tying me to Sapphire.
