by Alexis Angel
If he comes after us, we’ll ruin him. About to fuck his stepdaughter and another woman. Audio recordings from my bag of him soliciting me for sex. Yeah, his career is gonna go down the drain, and all of his political clout will serve him for nothing. He will be discarded by the people above him like some filthy rag. And, of course, he would deserve all of that. And worst.
“We did it,” I whisper at Austin, kissing him on the lips.
“We did it, babe,” he smiles at me, and then he turns serious, taking one step back. “Now, I’m going to have a fucking conversation with that fucking asshole.”
Austin
“Lester boy,” I hiss, standing right in front of him. I tower over him, my shadow over his body, and he starts cowering. “Sit up, you pathetic excuse of a fucking man. I’m not going to beat you.” He relaxes at my words, sitting up straight, but his eyes are still wide with fear.
“You can’t do this… You can’t--” Before I can continue, I just punch him straight in the face. Fuck, that felt good. “You told me you wouldn’t hit me,” he cries out in pain, both his hands covering his nose. A straight line of blood starts dripping down from his nose and onto his lips.
“I fucking lied,” I simply shrug, and he turns his eyes up. He’s angry—oh, Lester is a very angry boy right now—but there’s nothing he can do about it. Unless he really wants to kick his ass in such a way that he’ll have to be dragged out of the house in a stretcher. Don’t get me wrong, he deserves all that and so much more, but I’m not a fucking savage. There’s nothing to gain from beating his ass, and my real purpose here is shutting him down for good.
“What do you want?” he cries out again, wiping his bloody face with the back of his hand. I’m almost tempted to punch him again, but somehow I restrain myself.
“What I want? See that young lady there?” I point toward Mistress Strokes, and Lester’s eyes go straight to her. He narrows his eyes into slits, and I don’t think I have ever seen someone so filled with hate. Strokes has been ruining his plans for months, and Lester tried like a mad man to put an end to it. He just didn’t count on me backing Strokes.
“You fucking bi--” he starts, his teeth stained with blood as he curses at his own stepdaughter. I stop him before he can continue and you probably already know how I did it, with a punch to the face, that’s correct. He still hasn’t learned his lesson.
“Be nice, Lester. There’s more where that came from. Anyway, as I was saying… You’re going to leave her alone for good. You’re going to forget that she even exists. If I ever hear that someone’s looking for her, someone remotely involved with you… I don’t care if it’s just because of a parking fine, Lester. Anyone goes after her, all of this will be leaked before you can jerk yourself off and cum. And from what I’ve heard, you’re pretty fast at that.”
He now turns his angry eyes toward Destiny, but I don’t even want him looking at her. I raise my fist in the air and that’s enough to grab his attention. He makes himself smaller, protecting his face with his arms, and I just drop my fist. Slowly he’s starting to get it.
“I’m not done, Lester, so pay attention. I don’t like repeating myself,” I fold my arms over my chest, confident that he won’t act out anymore, and then continue. “The moment Strokes, Destiny, and I leave this place, you’re going to make a few phone calls. You’re going to grab your cell phone, put it up to your ear, and you’re going to call whoever you need to so that Destiny’s club can reopen. I want it to happen so that there are no more suspicions around her or her club.”
“That’s not that easy --”
“Shut the fuck up, Lester. I don’t wanna hear it,” I spit at him. “You’ll think of something. You shut down her club, now you’re going to fix that. No excuses. And I’m far from being done.”
“Jesus,” he breathes out, sinking in his seat. He’s slowly starting to realize that we have him by the balls, and that there’s nothing he can do about it. He lost.
“I want you to get Python a license to operate in Manhattan as well. I’ve been trying to get one for months, and I know you’ve pulled some strings to block it. Now, I’m going to give a timeline; you have one month to get Destiny’s club reopened and Python’s licenses. Not a second more.”
“Fuck,” he hisses, still seething. “Fine, I’ll do that. I’ll get it done,” he finally submits, but I’m far from being done. If he thinks that all we want is for him to leave both our clubs alone, he’s very mistaken.
“And after that month is up… You’re going to leave New York City. For good.”
“Leave? I can’t leave, I’m the fucking Police Com--” This time I don’t punch him. I just slap him with the back of my hand as if he’s just a misbehaving schoolboy. This coward doesn’t even deserve my fists.
“You’re leaving,” I stress the ‘leaving’ part, making it clear that this is not up to discussion. Okay, to be honest, nothing of what I’m telling him is up for discussion. Not a word. “I don’t care where you go. Just make it someplace far away. I’d suggest Siberia. Seems like a fitting place for a piece of shit like you.”
The look on his face tells me that if he could he’d just murder me in cold blood right now. That’s when I realize that his threatening look isn’t just a look; he jumps off of the couch in an instant and, before any of my security guys can do a thing, he pushes me back. He reaches for something under his coffee table, and I see the cold metal of a police revolver shining in his hands. He takes his finger to the trigger, blood dripping out of his mouth as he snarls, and time stops; I see him squeezing the trigger in slow motion and I can almost imagine the bullet leaving its chamber and making its deadly way toward me.
“YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” I hear Strokes yell and, still seeing everything unfold in slow-mo, I watch as she runs toward him and kicks him straight in the balls with her heels. He drops the gun just before the trigger reaches its limit, and then he falls to the floor like a crumpled piece of paper. He has gone pale, and the only color in his face is the bright red still dripping out of his nose.
“Fuck, that was close,” I breathe out, taking a moment to steady myself. Mistress Strokes is now holding Destiny, stopping her from flat out murdering Lester with her bare hands. There’s no doubt in my mind that she could really do it if she wanted to. Destiny’s pretty scary when someone fucks with her man or with her child, and I’m just starting to realize that.
Smiling at Lester, I pick his gun up from the floor and then walk toward him. I caress the cold metal under my fingertips, taking my time to feel around his gun, and then I push the muzzle against his forehead. “You had your chance and you blew it. Time to say your prayers.”
“No, please, don’t…” he cries out, desperation turning him into something so pathetic that I almost pity him. Tears start falling out of his eyes, and he starts begging and crying like a baby. “I’ll do anything… I’ll do--”
“Goodbye, Lester,” I whisper as I show him my million dollar smile. I press the trigger and, for a fraction of a second, time stops. And then… Well, then nothing happens. I put the safety on the moment I picked up his gun.
“Oh, fuck,” he cries out, and I can’t help but laugh as I notice that there’s a dark stain on his jeans he had scrambled to put on once I burst in and after I took his picture.
Fucking tool.
He fucking pissed himself.
He should have stayed with his cock out.
“Well, don’t feel bad, Lester. Even big boys piss their pants from time to time,” I keep poking him with words, but now he has been defeated completely. He no longer has the nerve to stand up to me. He’s probably too afraid that I might just take the safety off and pop a bullet into his skull. Again, he probably deserves something like that, but I’m not a fucking degenerate like he is.
“Destiny’s club. Python’s license. And then get your ugly fucking mug out of New York,” I summarize the whole thing to him. There’s still the clincher, though. “Oh, yeah, Lester… I’ll keep tabs on you. I
’ll have people watching. If I ever hear that you’re involved in human trafficking again… Forget about photographs being leaked. If you do that, I’ll hunt you down like a dog, and I’ll finish you for good.”
I throw him one last disgusted look and then turn on my heels. My security guys are already out by there, and one of them has parked the door right in front of Lester’s house. I walk to the doorway and then look from Strokes to Destiny.
“Shall we, ladies?”
Arm-in-arm with them, I walk out.
Destiny
The ride back to Austin’s apartment was as smooth as smooth can be. Now that the cloud of impending doom that hung over our heads had been lifted, we all felt as if we were walking on cloud nine.
Once we got home, the first thing Strokes and I wanted to do was have a shower. She took the main bathroom, and I took the one in Austin’s bedroom. I’m here now, standing under the running water and letting all memories of Lester be wiped off from both my body and my mind.
Happiness, that’s what I feel right now. Soon enough, Lester and his threats will be thing from the past, and the path will be cleared for Austin and I. And, soon enough, our family is going to grow, I think with a smile, slowly caressing my belly. It’s still flat and tight, but soon it’s going to start growing and growing. I never thought I’d be happy about growing fat, but that’s how the good things happen: they sneak up on you and take you by surprise. That was exactly how I fell in love with Austin.
I step out of the shower with a wide smile on my face and, wrapping myself in a large cotton towel, I head to the wardrobe. I reach for my clothes, but then my arm stops mid-air. No, I don’t need clothes right now. What I need is… something else.
I walk out of the room and head toward the living room with sure steps. Austin is leaning by the counter of his mini-bar, cradling a glass of whisky in his hands as he looks up to meet my gaze.
“Hello, there,” he says, placing the glass down on the counter and walking toward me. He lays his hand on my waist and pulls me into him, crushing his mouth against mine. I close my eyes and, savoring how it feels to have my body pressed on his, I push my tongue past his lips. Our tongues dance around one another in a slow teasing dance, and then we finally pull back and look at each other.
“I promised everything would work out,” he whispers, softly running one hand through my hair.
“You did. And you kept your promise,” I tell him, looking into his eyes as my heart beats a song of… love. God, I’m going to love this man until my dying days. Whatever happens, I know that nothing will ever pull us apart. As stupid as it may sound, we were made for each other and, now that we’ve found that out, nothing will ever come between us. I won’t allow it, and he won’t allow it either.
“I always keep my promises, babe,” he whispers, his eyes shining with tenderness.
“Then promise me something right now,” I tell him, wickedness dancing at the corner of my lips. “Promise you’ll fuck me so hard I won’t even remember where I am once we’re done,” I whisper, grabbing at my towel in the place where I tucked it and pulling on it. I let it fall down to the floor and stand here, completely naked right in front of Austin.
“I promise,” he whispers, a look of that same wickedness on his face, and then he grabs me by the ass and pulls me into him. A shiver goes up my spine as I feel his long fingers on my bare ass cheeks and, when our lips collide once more, I shut the whole world out. There’s no more blackmail, no more fear, no more Lester. All that exists in my mind is Austin’s body pressed tight against mine.
“I love you,” I whisper, pulling back from his kiss.
“I love you too,” he tells me right back without hesitating, “never doubt that. Not for a second.”
“Then… Prove it,” I tease him, sliding one hand down his shirt and going over his belt. I open my hand, stretching my fingers wide, and feel his thick shape straining against his pants. His cock is already hard, pushing back against my fingers, just the way I like it.
“Oh, I’ll prove it,” he starts, squeezing my ass with those big hands of his. “I’ll fucking prove it,” he repeats, pushing me back until the back of my knees meet the edge of his couch. He gives me a gentle push and I fall down on the couch, smiling as I go down. Never taking his eyes off of me, he starts to unbutton his own shirt with slow and steady movements, and my heart skips a beat as his ripped chest comes into view. I swear, I don’t get tired of looking at his body. How could I, when he’s perfection incarnate? And he’s mine!
When he’s done with the buttons on his shirt, he pushes it down his arms and simply lets it fall to the floor. Then, he climbs on the couch and on top of me, pressing his bare chest against my naked tits, a shiver going up my spine as I feel my hard nipples brushing over his skin.
We kiss again, our tongues dancing around each other as I place my hands on his back, feeling his muscles move under my fingers like the perfect piece of sexual engineering that they are. I slide my hands down to his lower back and, when I meet the fabric of his pants, I push my fingers under it. My skin prickles as I feel his ass under the palm of my hands, and then I pull back from his skin and bury my teeth into his shoulders. I’m doing it on instinct, biting on him and making him crazy.
The moment I bite him harder than I should, he yanks on my hair and forces my head back. His eyes are burning with desire and he wastes no time; slightly pulling back his body from mine, he opens a space between us and then moves fast, placing the open palm of his hand against my pussy and pressing down on it.
“Oh,” I sigh heavily, thrusting against his hand and swaying my hips from side to side. Using just one finger, he starts running it up and down the length of my pussy, turning my sighs and into moans.
“Today’s a special day,” he whispers into my ear, still moving his finger up and down. “Today marks the first day of our new life,” he continues, and then his finger stops moving. “And we’re going to fucking celebrate,” he tells me, sliding his finger past my folds and, hooking it upward, pushing it right against my G-spot. A throaty moan escapes my lips and I lean back against the couch, surrendering to the electric feeling that laces my whole body like barbed wire.
A wicked desperation guiding me, I flatten my hand against his crotch, massaging his thick shaft in hurried circles. Growling like a wild animal, I unbuckle his belt and pull it out from its loops. I open the top button of his pants and then, still moving as if have no time to lose, I pull his zipper down. His cock pushes back against the fabric of his fingers, pressing down on my knuckles, and I almost go crazy. God, I can’t believe that I’ve fallen in love with the most handsome man on Earth, and that he loves me back. Swear to God, we’re going to fuck every single day for the rest of my life.
I’m about to pull his boxer briefs down when my body suddenly tenses up; Austin presses his finger against my G-spot in such a way that my muscles become as solid as concrete, a sharp needle of ecstasy stabbing my brain. I open my mouth to scream, but no sound comes out. I breathe out as pleasure chokes me, a raging orgasm taking form inside my pussy, clawing at my insides and threatening to explode, which it does.
“FUCK!” I hiss between my gritted teeth, my muscles twitch as I claw at Austin’s back, my fingernails like knives on his hard muscles. My teeth are pressed together so tightly that they might shatter at any time, and it even seems that my bones are rattling.
“This is just the start, babe,” he whispers, turning his hand around and placing his thumb over my clit. Without giving me any time to catch my breath, he starts massaging my clit while, at the same time, he pushes one more finger inside of me. Flicking his wrist, he fingers me with fast strokes, his thumb circling my clit in such a way that I can’t help but keep on hissing, pleasure turning into sound on my lips. “You want me to fuck you hard, don’t you?” he asks, a teasing tone in his voice.
“Y-yes…” I manage to say, commanding my mouth to move. Speaking is almost impossible when every single inch of your body is rece
iving a lashing from pleasure.
“Then I want you warmed up for it,” he continues to speak, moving his finger in and out of me at a urgent pace. It feels like my mind is slowly fading, every single thought inside my head being replaced with the echo of lust and ecstasy. Then, I feel the crackle of electricity inside of me and --
“OH GOD!” I shout, throwing my head back again and burying my fingernails in his back. By now I bet that he looks as if he has spent the night fighting a leopard. A very sexy leopard, mind you. “Your cock…” I find myself saying, hooking my fingers on his boxer briefs and pulling them down with such a violence that he groans. “I want your cock. Right now.” I curl my fingers around his shaft and, losing no time, I start moving my hand up and down his long inches, stroking him as he slowly slides his two fingers out of my pussy.
With a groan, he rolls to the side and sits down by my side, his cock slipping out of my fingers as he sits. Moving like a wild cat, I slip down from the couch and go down to my knees in front of him, reaching with both my hands for his mast. Grabbing it, I start to stroke him again, my hands moving so fast that they become a blur.
Completely hypnotized by his cock, I start leaning in. I part my lips and --
“I’m so sorry!” Mistress Strokes yells from behind the couch, her still wet hair clinging to her forehead. She has a long towel wrapped around her body, much like I did before, and her mouth is hanging open as she takes in the scene. “I didn’t… I didn’t know you guys were… I’m so sorry!”
The old feelings from Lester’s apartment come back. I know she’s not going to sleep with Austin. And she’s not going to take him away.
