by Alexis Angel
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Table of Contents
Protein Shake
Dedication
Description
Also By Alexis Angel
Table of Contents Instructions
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Head Hunter
Lust Muscle
Princely Passions
The Biggest Licker
Jailbait
Offense & Defense
Protein Shake
By Alexis Angel
Copyright 2018 by Naughty Angel Publishing
All rights reserved
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is entirely coincidental. This work is intended for adults only.
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Alexis Angel
Dedication
To Nancy
Description
Two fills you better than one...
Also By Alexis Angel
Baby Batter
Kim Vs. Stepbrother
Dirty Daddy
36 Inches
Blessed
24 Inches
Dirty Darcy
Stories From The 6 Train
12 Inches
Red & Blue
Cindersmellya
Offense & Defense
Cunning Linguist
Python
Mr. President
The Biggest Licker
DILF
Lust Muscle
Wicked Lil' Brat
Jailbait
Princely Passions
100 Days
Brittney Vs. Banker
Head Hunter
Single TV Dad
Client 5
Table of Contents Instructions
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Alexis Angel
Chapter 1
Eric
The label on the protein shake reads Hot Fuck Sunday. With a name like that, you’d think this bitch would be dying to gulp it down her slutty little throat—but apparently, she’s refusing.
She has a name-tag that reads BECKA stuck to her t-shirt over her left tit. When she lays her eyes on me, her nipple gets so hard beneath her shirt that she nearly removes the C from her own fucking name.
I walk into the taste test room like I own the place—because I fucking do. Protein Plus Labs is just the latest addition to my health and fitness empire, and I’m not in the mood for any hold-ups in getting our first product—Protein Plus shakes—to market.
“Drink the damn thing,” I tell her, calm and casual as can be. “Or we’ll find some other slut who will.”
Her eyes go wide when she hears that. I can practically smell her get wet from halfway across the room. The scent only intensifies as my business partner, Chase Flint, follows me in.
“I’ll drink whatever you want me to,” Becka sasses back, looking smug. “As long as it doesn’t taste like shit—which, I know this is going to.”
She gestures to the protein shake in front of her, then crosses her arms beneath her tits—as if I don’t know exactly what she’s doing.
Fuck, it’s not even a challenge with women like this.
I unraveled her kinks the second she opened her pouty bimbo lips.
See, right about now, Becka is thinking to herself that she’s going to prove to us what a bitch she can be. She’s going to try and draw attention to how fucking hot she thinks she is—not even realizing that I’ve fucked hotter women than her three times today already.
She thinks she’s going to get my temper going. Thinks she’s going to throw her fucking attitude around, and it’ll earn her the privilege of wrapping her mouth around my cock.
“The last five flavors you made me try tasted like garbage,” Becka says, licking her lips. “Unless you give me something actually fucking drinkable for once, I’m done.”
“Let her leave.” Chase leans in and turns his head away from her to talk in my ear. “She’s just being a cunt because that’s all she’s thinking with right now: her cunt. She’ll be back.”
Chase looks about as comfortable in a collared shirt as a nuclear warhead looks in the back of a pickup truck on a bumpy road. If he so much as flexes the wrong way, he’s going to rip right the fuck through the fabric. It would leave him in nothing but a collar and two shirt-cuffs like a fucking Chippendale dancer…not that Chase would mind that.
But when we’re playing CEO, we have to look the part. Luckily, I’m as comfortable in a tuxedo as I am in a pair of gym shorts. As for Chase, the sleeves cover up all his scary-ass jailhouse tattoos.
I value Chase’s opinion. He’s the other half of this operation, and usually his judgment is sound.
But today, I’m fed up with this bitch.
“It’s alright,” I tell him. “I want to see how this plays out.”
Chase drops back, and I move forward, running a thumb across the buckle of my belt.
“You want something tasty to drink. Is that what you’re telling me?”
Becka licks her lips again. I watch her fucking pupils dilate as she stares blatan
tly at my crotch.
Like I said: so transparent, you could read a book through her.
“Answer.”
“Mmmhmm,” Becka whines.
“Use your words.”
“Yes,” she gasps. “Mm. Totally.”
I flick my belt open, unzip my fly, and pull it out. 12 inches of man meat slaps down on the table so hard and heavy, I see the surface of the protein shake tremble.
If Becka’s eyes get any fucking wider, they’re going to pop right out of her blow-up doll head.
“You want this fucking cock?” I ask.
I can hear the head of our research team, Linda, clear her throat behind me.
“Um, Mr. Hale—I don’t think that’s—”
“Not now, Linda,” I dismiss her. My fist wraps around my cock at the base, gripping it nice and tight. “I’m going to give Becka what she wants.”
“Yesssss,” Becka celebrates, leaning forward.
I stop her with ease, putting the heel of my hand on her forehead and pushing her back into her seat. Her slutty little tongue is still hanging out of her mouth in disappointment.
“Not so fast. You haven’t fucking earned this cock.”
I flex my thighs and my cock rises up in my fist of its own accord. I can feel the blood rushing to it, making it harder and thicker and longer with every passing second.
As for Becka, she’s practically fucking drooling.
Good. Horny little bitches like her ought to be drooling over a cock like mine.
It doesn’t take me long to cum. I don’t need porn or dirty talk or any of that shit. I’m in control of my body—and I want this little slut to see that.
Rope after rope of thick, creamy cum blasts out of the big, fat tip of my cock. My aim is impeccable—every fucking one of them lands in the protein shake. If I thought she could count any higher than ten right now, I would say that Becka counted every spurt.
I haven’t just filled it to the fucking brim—it’s pouring over the edge as well. She looks fucking dumbstruck as she watches the long, pearly strands drip down the side of the glass.
“Go on then,” I tell her. “Drink up.”
I tuck my cock back into my pants and zip up. Becka reaches for the shake. Behind me, I can feel Chase snort in amusement and Linda holding her fucking breath.
“Oh my god,” Becka moans, taking a little sip. It’s immediately followed by a second, louder moan as that sip turns into gulp after fucking gulp. “MmMmmmmMMMMM!”
I watch, unsurprised, as she chugs the whole fucking thing. She’s so eager to get it onto that slutty little tongue of hers that it leaks over the corners of her lips and spills down her chin. The shake pours down her throat, pooling between her breasts. It smears over her name-tag, until her name is just a fucking smudge.
When she comes up for air, her chest is heaving and the glass is fucking drained.
“That was,” she pants. “The best thing…I’ve ever tasted…”
“In your whole fucking life,” I finish for her. “I’m sure.”
I glance over to Linda, who looks like she’s about to either quit or faint on the spot. “Are we done here?”
“No!” Becka pleads. “Please…p-please. Fuck me? I don’t even care—you can use whatever hole you want. Just…please, just finish in my mouth, okay? Your cum…oh my god, your cum—”
I look over my shoulder to Chase. I don’t need to say a fucking word—we’ve known each other for long enough and shared enough women that he knows what I’m saying from just a look.
You wanna take this one? the look says.
You fucking started it, his look says back, but nonetheless, he moves forward, unbuckling his belt.
I already can hear Becka gagging on him as I turn to Linda. Our head of research is still as pale as the wall behind her. Probably fucking stunned—women tend to get like that when they see me at work.
“Can I get you something?”
I see her eyes dart to my crotch before she remembers herself and shakes her head no.
“Good.” I’m unable to fight back the pleased smirk on my lips. I’m still basking in the satisfaction of a job well done. “How long before we can get these on the market?”
“W-well…” Linda blinks several times and sighs heavily before she can make words. “The FDA will have a fucking cow…”
“Why? It’s non-dairy creamer.”
She snorts when she laughs, pushing her nerdy-ass glasses back up her nose.
“Right. Well, if you’re prepared to write a big, fat check to get them to look the other way…”
“Always. How long?”
Linda’s brow sets in consternation. Behind us, Becka pipes her throat with Chase’s rock-hard dick.
“A couple of weeks for trials. To get it to market, though…I’ll need a few months.”
“Good.”
I look over to Chase, telling him to wrap it up with the little slut taste-testing his man meat, and he nods in understanding. I figure after this, we can hit the gym and throw some weight around to round off the day.
But Linda presents one last problem before we go.
“Mr. Hale…you saw how she responded to this batch.”
“I think we all saw, Linda.”
“That’s the best reaction we’ve had to that flavor.”
I can tell she’s trying to skirt around the subject. I decide to let her struggle with it for a little longer.
What can I say? I’m a bit of a sadist, and it fucking amuses me to watch her squirm.
“Wrap it up, Linda.”
“It’s…your cum.”
“What about my cum?”
“That’s what made it taste so good.”
I cross my arms over my chest, watching Chase pump his own seed down Becka’s thirsty little throat. When I look back over to Linda, I smile.
“Is that your scientific opinion?”
She furrows her brow in frustration. “It’s the only reasonable conclusion, yes.”
“Huh,” I say, though I’m not really surprised. Women have been telling me how delicious my cum is since I blew my first load into a bitch’s throat. “Flattering.”
“So…we’ll need more.”
I chuckle. “Linda, if I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were propositioning me.”
One look at poor Linda, though, and I almost feel bad. Desperate little thing is red as a fucking beet.
“W-we’ll need to test the r-results,” she stutters, “M-monitor for side effects—”
I clap my hand on her shoulder comfortingly. She shudders at my touch.
“I’ll get you as much as you want. Just get it done.”
I cock my head at Chase.
Leaving. Now.
He gets the memo and zips up, leaving Becka licking her lips and whimpering for more.
Protein shakes with extra protein. What a crazy fucking world. But if women enjoy our cum so much, I’m not going to be the one to stop them from getting it.
I’m building a fitness empire here. And if that means getting every legal woman in the USA addicted to slurping up my personal-brand protein shake to get there…
Let them drink cum.
Chapter 2
Kara
For the first time in my life, when I stare down at the scale, I don’t feel ashamed of the number staring back at me.
I’ve officially lost one hundred pounds.
One hundred fucking pounds of fast food and delivery pizzas, shame-cake, and sugar wine. That’s what I was made of two years ago when I lost the plus-size modeling contract that was supposed to set me up with a career for life.
Do you have any fucking idea how embarrassing it is to get so fat, you can’t even model plus-sized clothing anymore?
Don’t get me wrong, babe—I was never gonna be one of those skinny-armed Kate Moss types—but plus-size modeling? That was supposed to be my shit. I slept, breathed, and ate plus-size fashion…but obviously, I also ate a lot of other shit, too.
&n
bsp; It’s fucking crazy how good life gets when you stop thinking of the phrase all you can eat as a challenge.
And now, holy shit. Here I am. Weight goals, baby.
I step off the scale because I can hardly fucking believe it. I look in the mirror instead.
And like, lemme fucking tell you, babe.
That’s pretty weird, too.
The woman I see staring back at me is a bold, beautiful, skinny bitch. She’s got long, dark blonde hair that comes down over her shoulders in messy waves. Her eyes are Barbie Doll blue and behind her cupid’s bow lips―a hint of a smile.
The weird thing is, when I hold my hand up to the mirror, that skinny bitch reaches her hand out to meet mine. When I giggle, she giggles. And when I grin, a smile blossoms on her face, too.
I can hardly fucking believe it.
There’s no way this is me.
I know what I look like. I mean, I’ve seen the pictures. I’m damn fucking aware.
I’m the kind of woman who wears sweatpants because tight little blue jeans cannot contain the bump of my booty. I’m an extended-sizes-only kind of gal. My double chin has its very own double chin—like, seriously!
Not to get all Mulan on you or anything, but who the fuck is this woman in the mirror looking back at me?
It takes me a minute to accept it, but I’ve got to.
This is me now. My body. My face. My cheekbones, which actually look like cheekbones.
And my ass—what the fuck happened to my ass?! It feels like it disappeared overnight.
My jawline…oh my god, I have a jawline.
I’m not gonna lie, babe. I’m kind of fucking hot.
But the woman in the mirror doesn’t look exactly the way I wish she looked, either. She’s skinny…but she’s missing something. Her arms look slender, but they don’t look strong. Her sweatpants are nearly falling off her fucking hips—and I used to love those hips! A wave of nausea hits me—fuck.
I’m everything that I’ve wanted to be for the last two years…and it’s still not enough.
I leave the woman in the mirror to admire her jawline. I’ve got shit to do today, even if that skinny bitch doesn’t.
“So…I reached my goal weight,” I say, emerging from my room in a cute pair of wide-legged pants and a blouse the color of my favorite wine.
