Baby Batter: A Baby For The Billionaire Single Dad Romance

by Alexis Angel

  “Don’t be too flattered. I just happen to have a soft spot for the Met,” I tell him, but the moment I say it I know he sees my words for what they are: a feeble lie.

  “Sure, Athena,” he says casually, not even bothering to call my bluff, and then he offers me his arm. Taking it, we walk up the stairs leading to the entrance, and the security staff there just waves us inside. Leading me as if he knew the corridors and halls of the Met as well as he knows the back of his hand, Malcolm takes me to a separate wing of the museum. My high heels click eerily across the marble floor, and I look around to find the place deserted.

  “What --?”, I start to say, but Malcolm just turns to me and smiles, answering the question on my mind.

  “I arranged to shut down this wing just for the night. We have the place all to ourselves.”

  “That’s… nice,” I tell him, feeling completely dumb. I’m so stunned that I can’t even think of anything smart to say. I mean, no one has ever done anything like this for me. A whole wing of the Met? It must've cost a fortune but, seriously, I’m not impressed because of the money.

  The gesture itself has impressed me.

  “I had the feeling you’d enjoy this,” he continues, leading me to a large hall with paintings hanging from the walls, red velvet ropes cordoning them.

  “Are these…?”

  “Yeah, these are Monet’s.” Letting go of my arm, his fingertips brush down my forearm and he laces his fingers on mine before I can even react. When I realize what I’m doing, I’m already holding his hand.

  “How did you know…?” I ask him with a whisper. I’m not exactly an art connoisseur, but I always enjoyed the Impressionist painters, especially Claude Monet. There’s something about the simplicity of these paintings that just draws me in. Soft strokes, vivid colors … and something in these landscapes just takes me back, like a dream where you revisit the happy moments in your childhood.

  “I didn’t,” is his reply. “I just had a feeling.”

  “I love these.” I can’t even hide my excitement. Right now I feel like a teenage girl, whisked away by some bad boy whom, it turns out, has an endearing side to him.

  “Me too … there’s something about these paintings, isn’t there? They’re soothing.”

  “Yes, they are,” I reply, completely forgetting about all the smart sentences and comebacks I had prepared before meeting him today. I have the feeling that he’s acting naturally, being more true to himself than he usually is, and I don’t want to ruin the moment by acting like a smartass. I just want to be myself right now and enjoy this… Whatever this is.

  “That one’s my favorite,” he continues, walking toward one of the paintings at the end of the room. “It’s the --”

  “Sunset at Pourville,” I finish his sentence, naming the painting before he can do it.

  “That’s right,” he smiles, turning his gaze toward me. In his eyes, there’s both a glint of surprise and of joy; he wasn’t expecting me to recognize that Monet painting. I smile back at him and then we turn our attention back toward the painting, two figures walking down a deserted beach while the orange glow of a setting sun tumbles over them.

  “It reminds me of my mother,” he says, and I’m too surprised by his tone to say anything. I just squeeze his hand softly and wait for him to continue. “She loved Europe, and we visited every summer. Whenever we were there, she always dragged me after her for long walks at the beach. She loved it; I didn’t.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Because I was a stupid boy that only wanted to do stupid shit,” he continues with a sorrowful tone.

  “What happened?”

  “She died when I was only twelve,” he replies, looking at me with a sad smile. “And now, I guess I kinda miss those long walks.”

  “I’m sorry,” I find myself saying, and I realize that tears are stinging my eyes. I take a deep breath to stop myself from crying and then, pushing my body against his, I go on tiptoes and brush my lips against his.

  “What was that for?” he chuckles, all the sorrow fading from his words now.

  “Don’t tell me I can’t kiss you,” I chuckle as well, looking into his eyes.

  “Oh, you can do so much more than just kiss me…” Turning on his heels so that his body is pressed against mine, he rests his hands on my waist and pulls me harshly into him. “Especially after what happened between the two of us…”

  “I don’t remember anything happening between the two of us,” I laugh, placing both my hands on his chest and running one down the length of his tie. “Care to refresh my memory?”

  His smile turns into a grin and then he looks around the museum hall, as if to check if we’re truly alone. Satisfied with what he sees (which is nothing), he then turns his gaze back toward me.

  “My pleasure.”

  Athena

  With a smile that makes my heart tighten up inside my chest, Malcolm closes the distance between us and rests his hands on my hips. We stand still like that for a few seconds, enjoying the closeness of our bodies, and then he pushes me back. I take a few steps until my back is pressed against the wall, and the moment I feel it I exhale sharply.

  Looking into my eyes, he takes one hand down and rests the tip of his fingers over my knee, right before the hemline of my dress; he slides them up then, his fingertips brushing over my skin all the way up to my inner thighs, getting so close to my pussy I shiver.

  I can feel his fingers tracing the lips of my pussy through my G-string, and anticipation wells up inside of me. My heart starts to race hard as I feel Malcolm’s fingers slide the fabric of my G-string to the side, and he runs his fingers over my clit, making me so wet I can barely think straight. He looks right into my eyes as he parts my pussy lips, and then pushes one finger inside me so fast that I feel a shiver going up my spine. Sighing heavily, I lean my head on Malcolm’s shoulder and I start to nibble at his ear lobe. “God,” I purr, the scent of his body making its way to my brain fast.

  I take my hand, resting it over his crotch, I start rubbing his cock through his pants. I feel it hardening up against my fingers, desire making it pulse fast - my heart starts pounding against my chest as I feel that thick shaft of his, and all kinds of wicked thoughts flood my mind. I keep rubbing him, tracing that huge twelve-inch cock with my fingers while Malcolm continues to play with my pussy.

  I try to hold back but I feel that intense warm, tingling sensation course through my body with every stroke of his fingers. I arch my back, sighing heavily, and he fingers me faster - he wants me to cum, and he wants me to do it right now… The swirl of his fingers keep on unleashing sweet pleasure into my body, and I simply can’t hold back anymore – gritting my teeth and throwing my head back, I let my pussy juices flow all over his fingers as I cum so hard my body shakes, my juices running down his hand.

  Malcolm lets his fingers linger right on my clit for a while, rubbing it softly now. I reach for his hand and grab his sticky creamy fingers, bringing them up to my mouth.

  “Just a taste,” I whisper lewdly, and then I lick my own juices off of his hand while I stare into his eyes, taking my tongue and running it up and down his fingers, the flavor of my own pussy making me feel dizzy.

  “You’re really something, aren’t you…?” Malcolm asks me, his eyes never leaving mine.

  “I’m more than just something,” I reply with a soft chuckle. Then, I place one hand on his chest and take my lips to his ear.

  “Your pants… Open them,” I tell him, every single one of my words loaded with devilish anticipation. With a devilish grin he does as instructed, unbuckling his belt with slow but deliberate movements. He pushes the zipper down and I slide my soft, manicured hands into his boxer briefs. As I massage the head of Malcolm’s huge cock, I feel myself growing wet all over again, the never-ending reservoir of desire inside me fueling my brain.

  I slowly bring his cock out of his boxer briefs and pants, allowing my gaze to fall down to his huge member. I take in every i
nch of its wonderful glory before I lower myself, slowly going to down to my knees in front of him. Smiling, I lean forward, stopping right before my lips touch his flesh. I take my tongue out from between my lips and, tilting my head sideways, I run the tip of my tongue down the length of his shaft, going all the way to his balls.

  When I come back up, I part my lips and then wrap them around the tip of his cock, tasting his pre-cum. As I take my tongue and run it all over the head of Malcolm’s huge member, I can hear his breathing start to get shallow and I can’t help but start rolling my lips down his thick mast.

  I take that gorgeous cock into my mouth, inch by inch, working my tongue up and down his shaft as I go. I feel it growing harder, that thickness pushing down on my tongue as veins bulge out on the sides of his shaft. This is the kind of cock that you can suck for hours on end and never have to worry about it staying soft.

  Tightening my jaws around his cock, I run my fingers up and down his heavy balls, the very thought of how much cum is held within them making my nipples hard. I feel Malcolm’s hands in my hair, guiding my head up and down on his cock, and I let him dictate the rhythm of my movements.

  “Fuck, Athena,” he groans, his cock pulsing hard against my tongue. He’s already close, but he doesn’t want the party to be over just yet – yanking on my hair, he forces me to take my mouth off of his cock and then looks down at me, a dazed smile on his lips.

  Grabbing my hands, he pulls me up to my feet and then wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me close.

  “I can’t get enough of you,” he whispers against my ear, and his voice makes my whole body tingle. Then, he places one hand on the nape of my neck and just crushes his mouth against mine.

  Tasting his lips on mine causes a stir deep inside me, and I feel my heart tightening up once more.

  “I want that pussy,” he tells me as he pulls back from me. “And I want it right now,” he continues, the tension in his words palpable. Holding me by the waist, he starts lowering his body and pulls me after him; we slide to the floor together in one smooth motion, and Malcolm lays me on my back on the cool tile floor. I let out a slight moan as I feel the coldness of the floor underneath me, and the sound of my voice echoes through the deserted wing of the Met, the Monet paintings hanging on the wall the only witness to what we’re doing.

  Kneeling between my legs, he rests his hands on my knees and slides them up, hooking his thumbs on the hemline of my dress and pushing it up to my waist. The moment my G-string comes into sight, he leans into me and presses his mouth against it. Except, instead of sucking, he grabs the fabric between his teeth.

  He starts to take my G-string off, pulling it down with his teeth, and my skin prickles as I feel the drenched fabric of my underwear sticking to the skin of my legs on the way down. Placing his hands on my ankles, he makes me lift my feet up and then takes the G-string off my legs with his hands. Looking into my eyes, he takes my underwear up to his mouth and presses it against his lips; he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, taking in my scent, and all kinds of wicked thoughts start jumping up and down inside my head. I just love it when he does that, as if he couldn’t get enough of the way I smell, taste, and feel.

  Allowing the G-string to slip off his fingers to the floor, he then leans into me again and teases me, blowing on my hard clit while he takes one hand to my breasts and squeezes them gently. Taking his time, he slowly takes one finger to my pussy and slightly parts my lips, running his tongue across my achingly hard clit. “Oh my God”, I moan as I feel his tongue touching me, electricity spreading all over my body.

  “Fucking delicious,” he moans as he pulls back from my clit, allowing his tongue to fall down to my wet pussy lips. Pressing his mouth against my wetness, he opens it wide and starts sucking hard, jabbing with his tongue at my insides at the same time.

  The way Malcolm sucks on my pussy lips while he pushes his tongue inside of me is just… Oh, it’s just perfect. And I can tell he enjoys the way I taste from the way he plunges his tongue deeper into my wet pussy. I can feel every flick he makes against my clit and, with every strategic placed swirl, I give into him a little more. I arch my back as he lifts my ass up and runs his tongue up and down my pussy, his movements so maddening that I just can’t help but moan loudly, my voice bouncing of the walls and creating an erotic symphony of echoes across the tall room, the vaulted ceiling above us amplifying my moans and sighs. With every flick of his tongue I get closer to letting this intense swelling of sensual pleasure take over me.

  And it won’t take long.

  Malcolm places my legs on each one of his shoulders as he continues to devour my pussy. It feels like he wants to suck every ounce of wetness out of me, as if my pussy was the most delicious thing he ever tasted.

  I clinch my teeth as he continues to tongue fuck my pussy, and I let out a deep passionate moan as my pussy releases all of the juices that had been building up. He buries his face hard between my thighs as I start to cum, and that makes me moan even harder. And seeing how much he wants to taste me… Well, it just makes me keep cumming harder.

  When he does finally lift his face up, he is covered in my creamy, sticky juices, beads of it dripping off his chin, nose.

  “You taste fucking amazing, Athena…” He breathes, climbing up my body. Pressing his chest against my breasts and cupping the back of my head with one of his big hands, he brings his lips to mine and kisses me deeply.

  As we kiss I can feel the ripple of his eight pack of abs pressed into my stomach. And that’s… That’s enough to make me lose all control.

  Taking my hand down to his crotch, I tease Malcolm by grabbing hold of his shaft, curling my fingers around it slowly. I can feel Malcolm’s cock throbbing hard right in my hands, and I love it. Doing it with erratic movements, I let go of his monstrous cock, and that just so I can I pull both his pants and boxers down his legs, and he does the rest by kicking off his shoes. When I do finally slide Malcolm’s boxers off of his hips, I look deep into his eyes and, placing my hands on his chest, force him to sit up. I follow after, sitting on the floor, and then give him a wicked grin.

  Pushing on his chest, I force him to lay down and then I strike like a wild cat; leaning in, my hands now on his knees, I slowly bring the tip of my tongue to the head of his magnificent cock, moving my tongue in a circular motion on its tip before I start to lick up and down his shaft. I make my way to those huge heavy, low hanging balls of his and I run my tongue across them just to feel him shiver. I then start to take them into my mouth one at a time, lapping at them with my tongue.

  They feel so good in my mouth, and I can feel myself getting wet again. I make it my business to make sure his balls are nice and wet before I start to slide my tongue back up and down his rock hard shaft. I take every inch of that cock inch by inch into my throat, slowly losing all control as I do it. As I tighten my jaws around Malcolm’s shaft I hear him let out a deep groan; I feel his hands in my hair once more and I let him guide my head, his fingers forcing me to slow down. I had gotten so excited I didn’t realize I was going up and down in a frenzy. I feel that huge head deep in my throat trembling and I know that soon he is going to give me all of that hot, creamy load that I crave and ache for.

  But I don’t want that to happen just yet. Oh, no, I still need more from him.

  Popping his cock out of my mouth, I then go up to my feet with cat-like movements and turn around. I place my feet on either side of his waist and then lower myself over his body, my ass turned to him.

  He remains lying on the floor and, as I sit down, I jut my ass back and press my pussy against his mouth, smothering him. Feeling his skin underneath my ass makes me start riding his face, instinct taking over me. Malcolm takes hold of my ass in his firm hands, spreading my cheeks apart, and his tongue dances up and down the length of my pussy.

  I throw my head back and, as his tongue continues to explore my insides, I can’t help but moan. I grind my pussy against his face, swaying my hips feverishly, and
Malcolm takes his fingers to my clit and starts rubbing on it.

  “Oh, God,” I moan as he sucks me hard, doing it as if he were trying to suck my soul out through my pussy. Arching my back, my eyelids begin to flutter and I lose all notion of time. My eyes roll back in their sockets and I start squealing in a high pitched voice I never knew existed inside me.

  A sudden orgasm takes over me in a fraction of a second, making my muscles tense up so fast that it feels as if someone poured concrete into them. I open my mouth to moan (or scream), but all that escapes my lips is a simply whimper, one filled with lush, sinful tones.

  Never has a man made me explode and have an out-of-body experience like this. God, I never knew it was possible for me to cum like this over and over again. If someone ever tried to tell me I would be getting tongue fucked in the Met by a guy like Malcolm, I would have told them they were lying. There’s something about him that makes me turn into an animal and, well, I love being a cat on the prowl.

  Taking a deep breath, I let my hands slide down his shirt and I take them straight to his cock, my pussy still pressed against his mouth. I want to feel his cock in my hands again. I wrap my hands around that thick shaft and start rubbing and stroking it.

  His tongue fights to get back into the rhythm, but I can tell he just can’t stay focused, with me massaging his entire shaft and making my way down to those balls. His magnificent cock stands at attention under my touch, and Malcolm starts to work his hips, begging for my mouth – I oblige and I cover the head of his cock with my wet, soft mouth. He arches his back and picks up the pace of his hips while I take his entire head into my mouth once more.

  I take my mouth off the head of his cock just so I can see how it glistens after I have it all wet. That, together with the soft lights of the Met bouncing off of his cock, make it look that much more majestic.