by Alex Wolf
I can hardly breathe as I work his cock with my tongue and lips, bringing him pleasure as he growls and thrusts his hips up to fuck my mouth. Precum beads at the head of his cock and I savor the taste as it spurts onto my tongue. It’s a salty, earthy taste that I can’t describe except to say I like it.
Pulling my head back, he slips from my mouth. “I’m not ready to come yet, sweetheart. Not until I’ve been balls-deep in that cunt.”
His dirty talk would be a turn off coming from anyone else, but this guy just has this sexiness and confidence that has me completely captivated.
“Aren’t you getting married?”
“That’s my brother.”
I pant as his fingers continue to bring me close to orgasming. “Fuck it then.”
“That’s what I plan on doing.” He whispers the words against my mouth and replaces his fingers with the head of his cock.
Forcefully, he slams into me and I cry out in a wave of pleasure and pain. He already had me stretched from finger-fucking me but not nearly enough for the size of him. I ache between my thighs in the most delicious of ways.
Over and over his body slaps against mine as he pounds into me.
“So tight.”
Pound.
Thrust.
“So hot and wet for me.”
Laughter bubbles in my throat but quickly dies down when his darkened eyes meet mine. He’s looking at me like a man possessed, with nothing on his mind but dominating my body. Bending me into every position, he takes me hard, without mercy, pulling my orgasm from me precisely like a skilled surgeon.
His smooth body weighs me down as he comes at me from behind. One hand teases my clit while the other fists my hair. He bites down on my shoulder as he pistons in and out. All I can hear are wet smacking sounds of flesh on flesh echoing through the room.
I can barely catch my breath as he brings my head back and captures my swollen lips with his eager mouth. His tongue dominates mine in the most delicious fashion.
Brodie
The way her tight cunt squeezes around my cock is incredible. She fits me perfectly, like a glove. I’ve never wanted a woman so much in my life. I don’t know what it is about her, but she must have a fucking kryptonite pussy because the moment I saw her I wanted her.
Maybe someone drugged that liquor bottle because every sense is heightened, and euphoria rips through my veins.
I’m on the brink of exhaustion, but the drive to feel her come all over my cock urges me on. I want her greedy, hot pussy milking my cock of every last drop when I shoot my load in her and claim what’s mine.
I flip her over and hold her hips in place as she rides me. Right when she gets into a rhythm, I thrust up as hard as I can. Her eyes go back in her head as she clenches around me. The feel of her arousal spilling down the sides of my legs does something to me. My balls tighten and lift. I hold it back with everything I have. Finally, my cock kicks hard, and I blow right up in her tight hole, filling her completely.
Her gorgeous eyes flutter open as she collapses on my chest.
I trace a finger along the soft curves of her back. “That was—”
“Wrong.” She lifts up, and a look of horror washes across her face. “I have to go. Oh my god I can’t believe I fucked you.”
“You know it was good.” I quirk my brow at her, leaning up on my elbow as she struggles to get dressed.
“Yeah, it was—fuck.” She scrambles for part of her outfit. “I don’t normally do this.” She waves a hand between us.
“Do what? Fuck a stranger like a champ?”
“Sleep around on the job. And I wouldn’t call it the best of my life.” She smirks.
It’s all for show.
“Please. Your pussy is begging for more already.” I stroke my dick, and her mouth practically waters.
She shakes her head and looks away. “I need to go.” Her voice cracks and I know I almost have her where I want her.
“You need to come sit on my face.” I grin when she looks over, drops her clothes, and slinks back onto the bed.
I never lose. In the bedroom or the courtroom. I know how to run shit. Bringing this woman to the best orgasm of her life will be no different.
Laying her back on the bed, I spread her legs wide. It makes me so fucking hard when I watch my come spill out of her cunt. I massage it into her skin and flick her clit with my tongue as she spreads her pussy lips for me.
In one long lick, I sweep my tongue from her ass to her clit. It’s probably not the smartest thing I’ve ever done in my life, fucking a random stripper who was meant for my brother at his bachelor party. Right now, though, I’m too caught up in the moment. Too tangled up in her to care.
I slide a finger in, hitting her spot just right as my tongue strokes across her.
Her hips arch up off the bed and I increase the tempo.
The last thing I remember is her fingers in my hair and her baited breaths as her orgasm rolls through her body.
My head pounds when I come to the next day. I don’t recognize my surroundings and stumble from the bed in search of a bathroom. I’m about to race like a pisshorse. Yeah, I say it backward because I find it funny.
I fumble with the light switch, falling into the open doorway of the private bathroom.
Slapping some water on my cheeks, I try to remember where the hell I am and what I did last night to have my tongue so damn sore. I uncap the toothpaste and squirt some on my finger and rub it across my teeth. My tongue feels dry as sandpaper.
Catching a glimpse of my disheveled appearance in the mirror, I do a double take at the lipstick marks on my throat.
When I walk back into the bedroom, the only trace of another person is some dark sparkly sequences on the white rug.
What did I drink last night? Everything is a blur.
Downstairs in the kitchen I run into Pike.
The night before rushes back to me in a blurry haze. Strippers and liquor.
“Wondered what happened to you.” He eyes me over the top of his newspaper.
“I think someone drugged me.”
“Hah. Lot of drugs floating around last night. Not entirely out of the realm of possibility.” He snickers into his coffee.
“It’s not funny, dick.”
“Relax. You didn’t die.”
My skin blazes where the lipstick-stained bruise covers my neck. “At least tell me she was hot.”
He nods. “People weren’t too happy about you stealing their entertainment.”
I nod and slowly pour myself a cup of coffee. I feel fucked ten ways to Sunday. I don’t even know what day it is right now.
April
I massage my temples. It feels like someone’s jamming a knife into my brain. I don’t know what came over me last night. It was completely out of character for me. I don’t shit where I eat. Meaning I don’t get involved with men I take my clothes off for. Sure, they’re paying, but only to see the goods, not taste and touch them.
My thighs squeeze together as I remember blurred details of the night before.
I don’t even know the guy’s full name and I let him come in me like it was no big deal.
I had to have been drugged. There’s no other explanation for it. I mean, I think he was hot. What I can remember of him was anyway, but I don’t fuck around like that.
I enjoy being a single girl in the city.
I hear Jenny and Michael giggling from her bedroom, and every sound they make amplifies in my head. The Aspirin I took isn’t helping. It’s making me nauseous.
I think about taking more meds, but I feel dizzy and find myself retching in the trashcan next to my bed.
I’m never drinking again. It was embarrassing enough that Ben had to come find me when it was time to leave the party. A party I barely remember. I know I’m not the first to let things go too far, but it sucks that he saw me like that. I kind of liked him. I didn’t want to date him or anything because we work together, but I always thought maybe if I saved up enough t
o get out of the stripping game I’d want to give him my number.
That likely won’t happen now. He probably thinks I’m a dirty whore. I feel like one right now. Driving home even seems to have slipped my mind.
How could I be so irresponsible?
The following day when I go into work, Rod asks to see me in his office.
“Must have put on quite a performance the other night. My friend tipped you extremely well, and he wants to see you again.”
I freeze in place.
“You okay?”
“Just tired.”
“When can I set this up?”
“I’m not a hooker. I don’t think it’s a good idea. You know how clingy and weird some of the customers get.”
“If that’s what you want.” He stares out the window. “The guy’s loaded.”
“Not interested. Maybe Julia.”
“He requested you.”
I give him a tense smile as he hands me an envelope stuffed with money. “Earnings from the party.”
My mouth drops then snaps shut as I take in the amount of hundred dollar bills. There’s got to be over five thousand dollars.
For a brief moment, the temptation of saving up for my business almost swallows me whole, but I swore I’d never fuck for money, and I’m not about to start now. I may be a stripper, but I have integrity. Even if it was absent for one night.
Two months later
You sure you don’t want me to take you to a doctor? This is the third morning you’ve been puking everywhere.”
“I’m fine.” I’m not fine.
Jenny waits patiently on the other side of the door for the shower. “Okay.”
Her voice trails off. I wish she’d leave me alone to die. I feel awful. My sense of smell and my taste buds are off. I’m probably coming down with a virus again. One of the girls at work was sick with it last week. Said her kids brought it home from school.
My insides finally stop gurgling and I move to the sink to wash my face. When I go to grab a washcloth, my untouched box of tampons catches my eye.
Attempting to count back in my head, I can’t remember my last period. I haven’t had sex since—
No.
Please no.
I clap a hand over my mouth and tears well up in the corners of my eyes.
I can’t even think the word as my chest threatens to break out in hives.
I’m going to be sick all over again.
This can’t be happening.
It has to be a virus.
Opening the medicine cabinet, I look to see if I have any antibiotics from the last time I was sick a few months ago.
No dice.
I just need to suck it up and go to the doctor. They’ll write me a prescription and I’ll be good as new.
I stare at my reflection in the mirror and stare at the dark circles under my eyes. Guess I’m not sleeping well either.
I hate to miss a night of work, but I need to take a day off. Whatever this is, it’s kicking my ass.
I not-so-patiently wait for the doctor to see me. The nurse insisted I do a pregnancy test even though I assured her it isn’t possible. I’m on birth control and I’m not sexually active. It’s dumb. I can’t be pregnant, but when the doc comes into the exam room grinning like a fool, I know something is up. You don’t smile like that when you’re about tell someone they need antibiotics and chicken broth.
He hands me a sucker and a bunch of pamphlets that I can’t bring myself to look at. I don’t need to look to know what they are.
My heart surges up into my throat.
I’m pregnant by a man I don’t even know. A man I had sex with one time at a fucking bachelor party. How’s that for how I met your father?
Nope. I can’t do this.
The walls threaten to close in around me.
“This isn’t possible. I-I’m on the pill.”
“I took a look at your chart. You were on some antibiotics that could have interfered with your birth control, making it less effective. It happens more often than you’d think.”
I wish the floor would open up and swallow me whole.
I can’t have a baby with a stranger.
I don’t even know his name.
Shame washes over me as I try to fight through the tears falling steady as rain down my cheeks.
Brodie
Two months later
Mr. Hunter? Your next appointment is here. She’s waiting in your office.”
“Thanks.” I straighten my tie and walk in to see a gorgeous woman waiting for me.
Our eyes meet across the desk as I hold out my hand to her. I could swear I’ve met her before. Surely, I’d remember someone so gorgeous.
“Brodie Hunter. What can I do for you?” I glance down at my appointment book.
“April.” She stares down at the table. “I spoke to your secretary, but I don’t think she understood why I wanted to meet with you.”
“You’re a former employee of Sheer Fantasy? That correct?”
“Yeah.” She tries to force a smile.
Reading people is what I do, and something slams into the pit of my stomach.
I can’t stop staring at her. I cant my head slightly to the side and take her in. “I’m not sure what I can do for you, but have we met before? I get this feeling like I know you.”
Her fake smile falters and she hesitates to answer. “I, umm, I don’t know. It could be possible. You ever go to the club? I was the spotlight dancer.”
I don’t remember ever going into that shithole. “No.” I tap my chin and look around to make sure nobody is watching us. “Maybe at a party or something? My brother had a bachelor party a while back and there were, umm, performers.”
Her face flushes and her chest grows red.
“You don’t look so great. Can I get you a water or something?”
Her slender hand goes to her throat. “Water would be good.” Her voice cracks when she speaks.
What the fuck is going on here?
“No problem.” I go over to the minifridge and take out two bottles, handing one to her.
“Thanks.” She fumbles with the lid, refusing to look up at me. “About the, umm, party?”
I stare off at the wall and shake my head. “Did something happen? How can I help you?”
“I want to sue Rod and his company for wrongful termination and for stuff they stole from me and refused to return.”
I take a step back and hold up my hands. “Look, I represent Rod and his business interests. You’d want to find a different lawyer. It’d be a conflict of interest for me.”
“I’m not really in the financial position to be paying legal fees now that I no longer have employment. Don’t you represent his employees too?”
Twisting the cap off my water I take a drink. “You’re not really an employee any longer, right? Why’d he fire you?” I shouldn’t even be discussing this, but it’s more entertaining than the rest of my day.
“He said I was too fat and unattractive to work for him.”
My brows knit together. “He said what? You’re gorgeous.” Well, there goes being appropriate. I straighten up. “Any witnesses willing to back up your story?”
“Yeah.” Her chair moves back, and I catch sight of her stomach. It looks like a pregnancy bump.
I fight the urge to cough and take another drink of my water too fast. It goes down the wrong pipe and I start choking. “Sorry. Shit. Excuse me.”
Personally, I can see where Rod’s coming from, making her take off work until after she’s had the baby. It’s an asshole move for sure, but, not many men are willing to pay to see a pregnant woman get naked. It ruins the fantasy. “So, you’re pregnant?” I make an uncomfortable face and hook my finger on the collar of my shirt in an attempt to get some air flowing.
I’m starting to sweat. This isn’t the shit I signed up for. Saying the ‘p word’ can be fatal if you mention it to a woman and you’re wrong. I need to know the facts, though.
Actually, I don’t. I should send her ass right out of my office. But, something about her… I just can’t put a finger on it. I want to help her for some reason I can’t explain. My brother and I pride ourselves on being assholes who love three things—power, pussy, and money.
“Correct. I’m pregnant. Not handicapped. I can still dance, and he owes me for the costumes his skanky girlfriend stole from my locker. I designed them myself. He refused to let me on the property to get my things. The only thing he gave me back was some glitter. Those costumes were invaluable to me. I’m out of work and unable to pay my bills. I have a month left if I’m lucky before my bank account is drained, and I have a kid on the way.”
“It is totally none of my business, but what about the father? Is he able to help?”
She shakes her head and looks at the floor.
Why am I still entertaining this episode of Jerry Springer in my office? Maybe I’m going soft.
“Tell you what I can do. Rod’s a client and a friend. I’ll talk to him for you. Maybe I can get him to give your stuff back and find you some work. You’ll have to meet him halfway. I doubt he’s going to let you dance. I’m sure it’s going to be a pay cut, but it’s better than nothing until you figure out what you want to do. If you’ll leave your contact information, I’ll give you a call when I have news.”
There’s a hint of a smile on her face, and somehow it makes me feel that warm fuzzy shit in my stomach that makes me think I just sprouted a vagina.
She walks toward the door. “Thank you, Mr. Hunter.”
“Just call me Brodie. I’ll be in touch.”
Great. Now I get to do some bullshit that’s going to take my time and effort. And why? Why am I helping this woman? I deserve a humanitarian award. I’m definitely not saying shit to my brother about it.
