by Alexis Angel
It's a struggle for me to maintain my composure. I take my time sliding myself over Malcolm's entire length, but I actually want to drop down onto him. I want to be filled completely by him. Instead, I restrain myself taking full advantage of this opportunity to tease him like he teased me in my office. But eventually, I'm able to feel his hips against the insides of my thighs, the warmth of his body against mine adding to the glorious sensation of having him inside me.
I lift myself up and lower myself down a couple of times, the emptiness of egress adding to the satisfaction of his return into me. There is a devilish thrill in taking my time like this. I know what his fantasy entails, and me straddling him and riding his cock is almost a complete realization of that fantasy. It just isn't quite what he wants, and I know that. I want the exact same thing and I have to admit that Malcolm is a master of delayed gratification.
I start bouncing up and down faster and faster grinding his cock as I come down before lifting myself up as far as I can and then pledging myself back down onto him. As I pick up the pace, Malcolm's smile widens and his eyes open. He stares directly into my eyes as I bounce up and down. His hands release the death grip on the bedspread and instead he grips my hips, his arms moving up and down in time with my body.
"Grab my tits," I say, not stopping my momentum. "I want you to pinch my nipples while I ride your fucking cock."
His fingers are like vices as he does what he's told to do. The searing pain of his grip adds to my own building desire. The small incongruities of our motions, his hand moving up when I am moving down, or him moving to the left when I am moving to the right, mix with the sensations and frictions inside me.
I'm so close and by the shortened grunts coming from Malcolm, I can tell that he's very close as well.
"Cum for me! I want you to fill me with your cum!"
Without a word Malcolm follows the command. His jaw clinches, his back arches shoving his cock deeper inside of me. I can feel his cock pulsating. I can sense his cum exploding out of his cock filling me. I did this. I made this man wild with desire and lust. The thought "I win" races through my mind, milliseconds before my own orgasm overtakes me. My body locks, held rigid by ecstasy. Instead of shaking, my body is vibrating as Malcolm pumps me full of his seed.
Malcolm's hips lower as his back relaxes. I can only follow, my body still locked in the throes of joy. His tight grip on my nipples causing jolts of electricity to course through my body in the opposite direction of the vibrations of my orgasm.
Finally, my muscles relax. I have no strength to hold myself up. I slump forward and Malcolm catches me, each of his hands cupping each of my breasts. He lowers me onto his chest and I let his heat sink, soothingly, into my body.
“Are you done?” I whisper into his ear, still feeling his hard cock inside of me. My voice is brimming with mischievousness, and that’s enough to make his cock twitch inside my pussy.
“Done? I’ll never be done with you, Athena,” he replies in a heartbeat and, before I can do anything about it, he rolls me to the side. I’m lying down, my stomach flat against the bed, and I feel the mattress shifting under his weight as he moves.
Kneeling behind me, he hooks his fingers on my hips and pulls me up, making me go on all fours. I let out a whimper as he forces me up, and my skin prickles as I feel his cum dripping out of my sore pussy.
I almost regret teasing him because, in all honesty, I don’t know if my pussy can take anymore. He was inside me for brief moments, but the raw intensity with which we fucked has made sure that I’ll be walking funny for a few hours.
Thankfully – gulp – he doesn’t seem to be after my pussy right now.
Taking his hand to my pussy, he runs his fingers over my cum-coated folds and then takes them right to my ass crack. Caressing my ass crack, he then rests it against my hole and starts pressing down. I gasp as I feel his finger sliding in, the cum acting as a lube, and then he starts fingering me. His tempo is slow and gentle, but I know that this is just the build-up: the main course isn’t fingering me.
“Take it…” I say in an urgent tone, my heart almost bursting inside my chest. “Take my ass.”
“Right away, miss,” he whispers in a devilish tone, and then replaces his finger with the tip of his cock. I grit my teeth as he starts pressing it against my hole, sliding inch by slow inch inside of me, and I release a furious scream as he finally buries all of his length into my ass. “You asked for more… now let’s see if you can take it.”
With that, he starts fucking me relentless, his cock sliding in and out of me easily because of the cum he rubbed onto me. If he were any other man, his cock would've already deflated a long time ago… but this is Malcolm we’re talking about and, even after he came, he never stopped being ready for more.
I can’t even see or hear anything. I’m in a daze, transported by his cock to some far-off universe. And when he slides one hand around my waist and lays two fingers over my clit… Well, I just fucking lose it.
“OH GOD!” I scream at the top of my lungs, my eyes rolling in their orbits as I feel flames of sheer ecstasy engulfing every inch of my body. And, at the same time, I feel Malcolm’s cock pulsing inside of me, unleashing whatever cum remained inside of him.
By the time he pulls out of me, there’s cum dripping out of my asshole… and it’s blending with the cum coming out of my pussy.
I’m ready to fall on the mattress and simply collapse but, holding me by the waist, Malcolm stops me. “I’m not done…” he whispers and then leans forward, placing both of his hands on my ass cheeks and spreading them wide. I whimper as I feel his tongue against my asshole, sliding in and out as he scoops up his own seed.
He keeps devouring me because there’s no better term for it—for God knows how long, and when he finally emerges there’s cum dripping down his chin.
“You look lovely,” I smile as, somehow, I find the strength to sit up on the bed.
“Don’t I?” he whispers and, two fingers under my chin, pulls me into him. Our lips touch and my eyelids droop by instinct as I feel the musky saltiness of his cum on me.
“I love you, Athena. I really do,” he breathes out as he pulls back from our kiss.
“So do I…” I reply, throwing myself on the bed and pulling him after me. I lay my head on his chest, and I can’t help but smile as he softly starts to run his fingers through my hair.
Ah, this is perfection.
Athena
I never thought I’d be this happy walking down the steps of a courthouse, but that’s exactly my state of spirit right now. There’s a bright smile on my face, and it seems that today is going to be a beautiful day.
The sky is bright blue, and there’s not a cloud in sight. The streets, like always, are packed with crowds of busy New Yorkers. It seems that everything is exactly as it should be, and you know why? Because everything’s right with the world now; what was wrong has been made right.
“Well, that does it for him,” Malcolm says as he walks toward our limo, parked just in front of the courthouse, and opens the door for me. We step inside and he sits by my side, his thigh brushing up against mine. I lay my hand on top of his and squeeze his fingers softly, turning around to look him in the eyes.
“He’s finished, right? For good?” I ask Malcolm and, even though I already know the answer to my question, I want to hear it coming out of his lips.
“He’s finished. For good,” he says with a nod and a smile, and I throw my head back against the seat and let bright clear laughter erupt from my lips.
Finally, Ben has gotten what he deserves.
You see, after buying the tapes from Ben, Malcolm and I set up a whole operation to dig every speck of dirt on Ben. He wasn’t sure what we'd find, but it turns out that a small investigation unearthed some big stuff. My lovely ex-boyfriend was involved in fraud, embezzlement, and insider trading.
And, more than that, it turned out that Ben was actively involved in harming Malcolm’s company. More than try
ing to make me play ball, Ben was leaking false information that harmed the companies where Malcolm held stock. It wasn’t exactly easy to gather all that information, but we just had to follow the money and start putting the pieces together to figure out what was really happening.
The moment we had all that on him, we did what any respectable American would do and we contacted the Department of Justice. You can imagine how eager they were to put their hands around the neck of another millionaire who thought himself to be above the law.
And that’s why Malcolm and I have just left the courthouse. Malcolm testified against Ben and, with the backing of the DoJ, I figure that Ben is going to spend a very long time behind bars.
Serves that bastard right.
And gotten back the $1 billion dollars that was apparently extorted from Malcolm in buying my tapes.
“Do you really have to go to the office now?” I ask him, running my tongue over my lips and offering him a lewd smile.
“I wish I hadn’t,” he replies, running one hand through my hair and allowing his eyes to wander down to my cleavage. Even though I’m wearing a respectable (and very professional looking) pencil skirt and white blouse, I made sure I looked sexy enough in the eyes of the judges; it never hurts to be a sexy woman, right? “Sorry, babe. But I have another investor coming in this afternoon. You know, the usual.”
The usual, he says. I still remember when his company was struggling, and now look at him, surrounded by investors, all of them trying to throw money at him.
The moment I knew Ben didn’t have his foot on my neck anymore, I made the rounds with some former clients and started a little avalanche. It took some time, but I made some of my former clients invest in Malcolm. After that, it was only a matter of time until he had the ball rolling. He has even paid me back (even though I told him it wasn’t necessary).
Now that we’ve proved Ben was the puppet-master behind the scenes, Malcolm is master of the universe once more. And, more than master of the universe, he’s the master of my body, mind, and soul.
He’s my husband.
Or, well, soon-to-be husband. We haven’t exactly settled on a date for the wedding, but it’s going to happen soon. We’re still a bit undecided between a big ceremony, or something more intimate, just for our closest friends and family. But these are just details, right? Big ceremony or not, what matters is that soon enough we’ll be telling our vows to each other; I know that the vows are just words, but I can’t wait to hear the till death do us part bit. Yeah, at heart I’m just a little girl who dreamed of marrying Prince Charming.
“What are you thinking about?” Malcolm asks, laying one hand on my knee.
“Thinkin’ of you,” I reply. “Thinkin’ of us.”
“Good things, I hope.”
“The best things,” I laugh, resting my hand on top of his and parting my legs slightly. His fingers roam toward the hem of my skirt, and our eyes lock.
“Fuck, I really can’t be late today,” he whispers, his voice suddenly growing heavy with anticipation. I look down at his crotch and can’t help but smile as I see the thick shape tenting his dress pants.
“Not even a few minutes?” I purr, curling my fingers around his wrist and forcing him to slide his hand under my skirt. My skin prickles as I feel his fingertips brushing against my inner thigh, and then he just cups my pussy and presses on it over my thong softly.
“Well…” he starts, looking out the window. By the look on his face, I guess he’s trying to estimate how long we have before the limo finally pulls up in front of his office building. “Maybe a few minutes won’t hurt.”
“No, not at all,” I tell him, grinning as he flicks my thong to the side. “But I guess that, after this, maybe we’ll need some kind of rule.”
“What kind of rule?” he chuckles, and then we both end up saying the same five words in unison.
“No sex during trading hours!”
Yeah, like that’s gonna work out.
Lust Muscle
12 Inches. Thick and throbbing.
Grab on if you dare.
Magic stick. Pleasure rod. Girth Vader. Pipe cleaner.
Lip splitter. Womb raider.
No matter what you call it, you know you're thinking about it when you see me. You're licking your lips at my 12 inches. Filled with rippling power ready to shoot you to paradise.
Most women - they can't get enough of it. They swoon when they see my bedroom eyes. They sigh when they feel my 8-pack abs. And then they touch the hammer head. And it's all over.
But what happens when it doesn't work?
When the woman, Cara Lynn, pretends that she doesn't give a plugged nickel about my trouser rod.
When the game that I spit falls flat?
Usually I move on. But somehow, I'm drawn to this alpha female like a deer to headlights.
Thing is, I know she's pretending to not care. She's teasing me. Tempting me.
She's testing me.
Well, darlin'... two can play at this game.
She wants to play head games? It's a good thing that I have more than just the one on my shoulders.
Come ride the pleasure pole of this standalone romance from Alexis Angel! It's gonna be a scorcher, babe, so be ready. No cliffys and you know there's a HEA that's guaranteed ;)
Liam
I grab the flavor-of-the-day’s hips and pound my cock into her over and over, smirking when she cries out a string of words practically in worship of me and what I’m doing to her body.
“Oh, fuck, Liam, your cock is so big,” she squeals, writhing under my hands. “I’m gonna cum—”
Her words break off as I flick my thumb across her clit and make her cum all over my cock.
Fuck yeah, my cock is big. And I know exactly what to do with. This girl—Misty?—is just the latest to tell me how fucking amazing it is. Like I don’t know. There’s a reason I have a reputation as the hottest billionaire playboy in New York City. Everyone wants a piece of Liam Donovan. And I’m usually happy to give it to them.
Hard, fast, and dirty.
Sometimes more than once if the chick happens to be especially hot. But never for more than one night.
Shoving her face down into the bed and yanking her ass up even higher, I plunge into her even harder, groaning through my own orgasm.
“Fuck…” I grit out as I shoot hot, streaming jets of cum inside her, my cock throbbing with my release.
Then I pull out and let her fall to the bed, standing up and taking care of the used-up condom. I tie it off and toss it in the trash and reach for my pants, ready to get the fuck away now that we both got what we came here for.
Misty (I think) rolls over on the bed and bites on the tip of a brightly painted fake fingernail. “Liam,” she coos, rubbing the wrinkled sheets beside her. “Why are you getting dressed? Come back to bed.” She pats it for emphasis.
I just look at her. What the fuck? She wants to cuddle or some shit?
“Uh, Misty—” she doesn’t correct me so I assume I got that much right, “—that’s not part of the deal.”
She pouts. “Maybe I’m not done with you.”
Too bad. I’m done with her.
“I thought maybe we could go again?” She bites her lower lip, no doubt thinking I’ll find it sexy. Whatever. Girls like Misty are a dime a dozen.
Well, at least in the circles I run in. Yeah, she’s some celebutante socialite, always on the pages of the tabloids, but girls like her throw themselves at me on the regular. I’ll have another one begging for my dick tomorrow.
Misty should know how this goes. It’s a one-night stand. I pull my pants on, making it clear that she needs to be happy with what she got. A nice, hard fucking from Liam Donovan.
She slumps back onto the bed and shrugs, yawning, and my mind moves on to other things. I have a lot to do for work tomorrow and I need to get some rest. I’ll sleep better now that I got my rocks off.
Pulling my shirt over my head, I notice that Misty’s alread
y on her way to knocked out cold. Guess that’s what a bottle of wine and a good fucking will do to you.
Leaving her there naked on the bed, I leave the room, pulling the door shut behind me. She’s totally welcome to stay in the guest room all night if she wants. I always let the women I bring home sleep there if they want, even though I don’t invite them to. I won’t even have to ask my housekeeper to clean the room up tomorrow. She knows the drill. It’s the room I use for fucking, and it’s always fresh for the next girl in line.
I wonder briefly what my housekeeper thinks about that. I don’t ever fuck girls in my own room. It’s a rule. One I never break. But just as quick as the thought comes, it’s gone.
Strolling into the living room of my penthouse apartment, I look out the windows at the lights of Manhattan below. I could probably go get some work done tonight if I wanted to. I have a lot on my plate right now, trying to juggle everything.
Instead, I pour myself a glass of Scotch and settle on the grey sofa, my eyes on the city lights but my thoughts elsewhere. Taking a sip, I lean my head back and stare at the ceiling.
I have a fucking awesome life and I want to keep it that way. The best apartment, all the best and sexiest women, the envy of every man in Manhattan, more money than anyone could ever need. They all want to be me.
More than that, I have my work. I fucking love what I do. You can’t really beat that, can you? What more could I ask for?