by Alexis Angel
In fact, we’ve been in Italy for so long that I find myself calling it home. We even decided we’re going to wait for me to give birth here before we head back to the states. We timed it so that Magnus could be in New York just before the Equinox Tower construction begins. It’s been a few months since he clinched the deal, and it took all that time to straighten out all the required paperwork. But now he finally has the green light to start building the tower, and I can tell he’s aching to go back to work.
I feel the same too. Sure, one year of vacation sounds fine, but I have grown restless as well. I don’t want to be a leech and live on Magnus’ money, you know? Besides, I’ve always wanted to be a journalist, and that hasn’t changed. In fact, I’ve used the little Italian I’ve learned (maybe I should consider myself a fluent speaker by now) to write a few columns for some local newspapers. I guess Italy really sunk its hook in me, huh?
Even though we’re probably going back to the states in a few months, Magnus and I have already talked about buying a villa in Florence, a cozy and secluded place where we can raise our children. I love the hustle and bustle of New York City, sure, but it turns out I also have a penchant for a quiet country life.
The way we see it, we can split our time between New York and Florence without breaking a sweat. We just go where we want, when we want. Sure, a lot of that is going to depend on how busy Magnus is, but there’s always some leeway.
I stretch lazily in my chair, remembering every turn of the path that led to me being here right now with Magnus, and look up at the first glowing stars in the sky with a smile. There’s a slight breeze in the air but the night is a warm one, the fingers of summer already reaching for the green hills of Genoa.
I hear Magnus’ footsteps coming from inside our bedroom, and I turn back on my stretcher to see him walk toward the balcony. “Hey, babe,” Magnus whispers, leaning down and planting a kiss on my cheek. I look up at him, smiling, both my hands on my oversized belly.
“Hey there, handsome,” I whisper back, and he sits by my side. We’re sitting on the balcony of our room in a villa in the vicinity of Genoa, one of Italy's most important port cities. The sun has just set, but its orange glow still falls over the world like a curtain, and I can’t help but feel like I’m inside a living picture.
“How’s my boy?” Magnus asks me, slowly reaching for me and caressing my bump.
“Girl,” I correct him with a laugh, but he just shakes his head.
“Nah, it’s a boy. I can feel it,” he tells me, a smile on his lips.
We decided against knowing beforehand if it’s going to be a boy or a girl, but now we find ourselves betting on who’s right. I tease Magnus by telling him it’s going to be a girl but, deep down, I think he’s right - there’s a miniature Magnus growing inside of me.
“Did you know everything would turn out the way it did?” I find myself asking him, looking at him with a gentle smile. He smiles right back and, leaning toward me, brushes his lips softly against mine.
“I didn’t have the slightest clue,” he shrugs. “I just knew I wouldn’t leave your side, come hell or high water.” Without saying a word, I reach for his hand and squeeze it in mine; this time I’m the one leaning in toward me, planting a kiss on his lips.
“I love you so much,” I whisper, feeling the warm summer breeze caress my skin.
“So do I,” he replies, softly pushing me out of my stretcher and taking it for him. He pulls me into his lap then, and I swing my legs over his, my arms laced around his neck.
We sit there in silence, the steady chirping of crickets filling the atmosphere around us. Closing my eyes, I press my head against his chest and take a deep breath. Sometimes happiness is as easy as this - one smile, one kiss, one hug. And, with Magnus by my side, happiness has never been any easier.
If I had to describe my life with one word right now, I know exactly which one I’d use.
Felicità.
DILF
*I’m definitely a Daddy You’d Love To…*
Wait.
Don’t say it. Because once you say it, you won’t be able to stop thinking about it.
You won’t be able to stop thinking about my soulful, bedroom eyes.
You’ll get desperate to feel my ripped body with my 8 pack abs and defined chest pressed against you.
And once you f*ck my foot long lust muscle…let’s just say that you’ll be mine.
Forever.
So when my enemies send a temptress my way to steer me off course, they gotta know how it’s gonna end.
How after one night with me I’m gonna end up owning her - body and soul.
You think I’ll go easy on her and let her win because she’s my stepdaughter?
If anything, that just makes me harder.
And trust me...if you like me when I'm calm like now, you’re gonna love me when I’m all hard inside of you, darlin’.
**Come join Alexis Angel in this full-length standalone romance but please note she’s not responsible for the laundry bill if you soak your panties! No cliffhanger but it's going to be a scorcher with scenes of MF and MFMM. HEA? You know it, babe**
Parker
"How bad do you want this?" I ask the three women crowded around me. They're on their knees, purring, and pawing, and pulling on my fucking belt buckle.
I sit back in the leather booth, both arms behind my head, and smile.
This is the fucking life, isn't it?
I'm enjoying an evening at Happy Endings exotic nightclub. The place isn't half bad—one of the better Midtown strip clubs.
The brunette with the smoldering eyes—Vicki I think her stage name is?—is sliding my belt from its buckle with one hand and dragging her other hand up my thigh, slowly raking her red nails against the fabric.
The other two women are jostling for a piece of the action too, and who the fuck wouldn't?
Look at me—8-pack abs, a cock bigger than your imagination can handle, the chiseled physique of a Greek god, eyes bluer than a hot bolt of lightning. What else could you possibly want? If you were in this room right now, I guarantee you'd be staring at my cock, touching yourself, and …
Oh, come on; don't give me that look. Don't be shy. You can stare; I don't fucking mind.
It's not everyday that you're gonna see a cock like this one. Don't shake your head. You know it's true, Gorgeous.
And don't you see how these three women are practically begging for a fucking taste of me?
I hear the metallic trill of my zipper as both of the blondes pull it down. My cock is fucking harder than a tree trunk, and they both give a shriek as its full 12 inches pop out of my boxer briefs and slap them in the face.
Vicki pushes her way in, opens her mouth, and eagerly wraps her lips around my cock. She pushes all 12 inches down her throat.
Impressive, I think to myself.
"Someone's hungry," I smile.
She then pulls back, and I hear my cock pop out of her mouth with a single, wet sound. The other two women seize the opportunity and lean in, and they twirl their tongues around my tip. Then one woman grabs my cock, and the way her hand looks so small wrapped around it makes me even fucking harder, if you can believe that. She opens her mouth as wide as she can, and wraps her lips around my now throbbing cock. She presses it down against her tongue, moving slowly, allowing her lips to roll over my entire length, inch by fucking inch until it presses against the back of her throat. I throw my head back with the fucking perfection of it all.
"Fuck, that's it," I groan, resting both of my hands on top of her head. I grab her hair in one fist and move my hips, guiding the motions of my cock in and out of her mouth. Vicki reaches in and tugs on my balls, rolling them between her capable, expert fingers.
"Oh yeah, fuck that's good," I whisper. All three of them look up at me, and smile.
If you can think of anything better than having these three women worshiping my manhood, let me know. Because right now? Nothing fucking beats it.
Su
re, I was married once, but all that woman just wanted was to weasel her way into the Governor's office.
That was seven years ago.
Big mistake.
But I've moved on and I'm better for it.
I learned a valuable lesson: always diversify. Translation: Multiple women are better than one.
"I want a taste," the other blonde purrs, leaning in and eyeing me hungrily.
"There's plenty to go around, ladies," I say, a grin growing on my lips.
Sure, as mayor of New York City, I do my fair share of fucking ribbon-cutting ceremonies, I shake hands, and I smile at babies, and I've even made appearances at weddings, but let me just say that I'm known as Parker "Pleasure" Trask for a fucking reason.
You know what I mean?
All three women are moving fast now, each one taking turns on my cock and I decide to change things up. I stand up and bend Vicki over the huge, shiny black table. We're on the top floor of the club, overlooking the stages and poles, and I fucking smile. I love New York City.
This is my city. The city of my fucking wealth.
I look down at Vicki and lift her skirt up, slapping her ass. It's firm and I grab a handful of one ass cheek in my hand. I have enough money to bounce $100 bills off her ass all day long. I can make it fucking rain for hours.
Don't believe me?
I've made an excess of a billion dollars on Wall Street, first working for Carter Jeffries, and then doing some currency trades. I still have a currency trading operation, Trask Phillips—a fucking power broker on Wall Street.
“I want you to fuck me hard," Vicki moans, looking back at me. I grin and grab her hips in one hand, and with the other, I yank her thong down.
Then I lean down and whisper in her ear, "Oh, I'll do it … but be careful what you wish for."
I push a finger inside of her pussy, sliding it in all the way.
"You’re so fucking wet, and I love it," I grin.
With a forceful thrust, I push my cock into Vicki and watch as she grips the table top with both of her hands. She's moaning and the two blondes get down on their knees behind me, dragging their hands up my thighs and grabbing my balls.
Yes, being Mayor of this city is a hell of a lot of fucking fun.
And I'm not just talking about fucking these women.
I've cleaned this city up, after the Anders administration. Unemployment is at 2%.
Crime is at all-time low.
People are making more fucking money than they have in years.
I fucking love seeing this city firing on all cylinders. And that's a direct result of my hard work.
Courts, transportation, EMS, urban planning, IT, public facilities, infrastructure, speaking with lawyers on legal issues, zoning and land use, finances, libraries, and even parking lots—you fucking name it and I've had my hands in it. Impressive list, isn't it?
And email—fuck let's not even talk about that. I spend hundreds of hours answering tens of thousands of fucking emails, communicating with the public, with my staff, with governments, and utilities, and on, and on.
You get the fucking picture.
Are you wondering how one person could possibly handle all of that?
Well, this job isn't for the weak-minded.
It takes a lot of fucking guts and determination.
And the bottom line is, I've changed the way the government interacts with people and their lives. And the city is thriving because of it.
But what now? What's my next big move?
A lot of high political jobs require that I have a fucking wife and kids.
But as I look down at Vicki, and at the other two women, their perfect tits and asses, and eager, open mouths … well, let's just say I'm in no fucking hurry to get married.
Been there, done that.
I'll take the foursome any day.
Vicki let's out a loud moan and I start working her pussy faster. I feel a growing desire coursing through my body and my movements become more erratic.
There's an electric current traveling through every muscle fiber, and the energy of it all is mounting. I feel like I'm about to fucking explode.
I pull my cock out of Vicki and all three women get on their knees. They grab my cock and stroke it for me, all three pairs of delicate hands moving in perfect unison.
Fuck, this is too good to be true.
But here I am.
All three of them looking up at me, mouths open, tongues out eagerly awaiting a taste. Their smiles wild and wide.
"Oh fuck," I groan, and then my cock is a geyser. It's twitching, and with every pulse, thick, hot ropes of cum are hitting all three women. It doesn't stop as they continue to milk me.
Rope after rope of cum.
I close my eyes for a moment and throw my head back.
When I open my eyes back up, I watch as all three of them are now swallowing my cum as if it were the best meal of their fucking lives. A few gooey strands are missed, and drip down their chins.
"Fuck yes," is all I manage to moan, as I continue to empty my load all over their faces, one by one.
Vicki grabs my cock and angles it down her mouth, catching the last two spasms and greedily swallowing my remaining cum.
And then I hear a sound that paralyzes me. It freezes time.
It's the sound of a camera.
A click.
A flash.
I turn my head just in time to see a newspaper photographer snap a picture of all this.
But before I can say, or do anything further, he's a blur.
He's simply gone; he vanishes as quickly and as quietly as he appeared.
Fuck.
This should be a wild ride.
Think you can handle it?
If you think you can hold on, then you’re welcome to flip the page, darlin’.
Just make sure you take off those panties. Spread those legs. Go somewhere private.
That’s right, probably best not to read this in public.
And hold on for the ride.
New York Daily Journal
Bad Boy Mayor Caught With His Pants Down - City Says "Meh"
All the politics, scandals, and dirt...just the way you like it!
New York City's bad boy mayor, the Honorable Parker Trask was caught in a compromising situation yesterday that would have cut short the political career of any other public servant as he was photographed inside of a strip club with three exotic dancers engaging in a combination of sexual acts.
The Mayor's spokesman, when asked to comment during an evening press conference as to whether the Mayor's office had any statement regarding the photographs that were taken by an independent photographer and published online simply commented, "Is there anything left to say? Does anyone even care?"
Indeed, critics of the Mayor assert that he has brought a level of cheapness and coarseness to the office of Mayor, engaging in acts and saying things that prior holders of the office would have avoided.
The latest incident occurred at the Happy Endings exotic nightclub in Midtown. The Mayor was sequestered with multiple dancers in a private room on the second floor of the club when a freelance photographer gained access to the room, and captured the Mayor in a variety of poses that displayed the sex acts he was engaged in.
Within hours, the photographs were circulating online. TMZ, the celebrity gossip organization, mentioned the photographs in their television update but did not air the uncensored pictures, rather putting those on their website.
Word spread in a viral fashion and within five hours the TMZ servers were being desperately backed up as 30 million people clicked to view the New York City's bad boy mayor with his pants down. Less than an hour later, the TMZ servers crashed from overuse.
It is perhaps telling that none of the city leaders or members of the opposition party have come out to decry this latest development. Many observers credit this to the fact that the Mayor has built excellent relationships with opposition groups and done an admirable job of actually run
ning the city.
"Listen, the guy's lowered my taxes, and dropped unemployment so I'm back to work, and made the streets safer and gotten schools and teachers back on track. If he wants to wet his whistle to take a break from all the hard work, I'm actually okay with it," commented one citizen when asked during his commute what his thoughts on the Mayoral non-scandal was.
This sentiment has been largely echoed throughout New York City as it looks at the latest act of its wunderkind Mayor. The city has been relatively prosperous for the better part of the decade following the troubling years of the Michael Anders administration, which were plagued by scandals both inside and out of his administration, as well as rising property values that pushed out residents in Manhattan, rising crime and unemployment levels, a breakdown in the city infrastructure, failing schools, and a shrinking tax base.
Those problems were tackled head on by the brash Parker Trask and within two years, had begun to subside.
Indeed, many in New York are wondering what the Mayor will do as he comes upon his final year in office. While many have requested that he stay for a third term, sources are saying that the Mayor may have greater ambitions in mind. What those will be, we have yet to find out, but rest assured that once we find out, we'll let you know...
Amy
“I’ll be in my office,” I tell the production crew as they pack up for lunch. I eye the shirtless model under the spotlights one more time and make a beeline toward my office. It’s been a hectic morning, testing the new high-definition cameras I bought and getting them ready to go, and I need a break. A long one.
I step inside my office, shut the door behind me, and collapse on my chair, stretching as I yawn. I should be getting lunch right now, not lazing around inside my office, but we won’t pick back up till 3, so I’m not exactly in a hurry. Maybe I’ll answer a few emails before heading out.
