by Abby Angel
“I hope you know I had nothing to do with Robert and his untimely ending,” she told me.
I looked at her, not believing her at first.
“His wife was inches away from killing him,” she continued. “And when I first went out there, it was mainly to do research and see what we could do to pay him off or scare him.”
I think I was a bit relieved when she told me this, but still a bit curious.
“Sure, we were probably going to scare him,” Cheryl continued. “Like have him wake up with a dead horse head in his bed like the Godfather or something,” she said.
I remember nodding, you know? As if this was the most normal thing in the world.
“But apparently my visit actually pushed her over the edge,” Cheryl told me. “The constant years of lying and cheating must have taken their toll on the poor woman because literally one hour after I left, he came home and she killed him.”
“So you didn't kill Robert?” I asked, too happy to express myself.
Don’t get me wrong; I’m glad that Robert is gone. But if it were because of me, I would have felt really horrible.
“No, but I helped her bury the body,” Cheryl said to me with a deadpan stare. “And if push came to shove, and I had to defend myself, there would be no question.”
I remember thinking maybe that was the best I could hope for.
And maybe to never fuck with Cheryl. Ever.
So that took care of Simon. And Robert. Now, a year later from when the whole thing started I think I’ve turned a page in my life. That I’ve moved on.
I look up at Ethan, who’s staring at me and smirking as he looks at me, contented and sitting on the sofa.
“So,” I say, looking up at him. “I think since you interrupted my little session, you might be owing me something."
“I thought we were waiting till the wedding?” he asks me, deadpanning.
I pout. He’s right of course. Six months ago, as I was approaching my last trimester, Ethan proposed to me.
He told me he wanted to make an honest woman out of me before we got married.
I told him yes. I mean, come on, right? Why would I have doubts about marrying the man I love.
But I also told him I wanted to wait.
I wanted our daughter to be born first. And then have her at our wedding. I wanted to share the happiest day of my life with everyone that I loved, you know?
Plus, get a chance to work off all the pounds so I could still turn heads.
“You’re right,” I pout. Three weeks ago, we told each other that we’d re-virginize ourselves and not have sex till our wedding night.
The only problem is, our wedding is still another seven days away.
I know, stop rolling your eyes, hun. You’re probably asking yourself what’s seven days without sex, huh?
Don’t lie.
And just remember, seven days without sex may not seem like much, but when you’re living with the absolute hottest piece of man meat on the planet, every minute feels like a month.
“You can do it, babe,” Ethan says with a laugh and gets up as I stare at his ass. “Besides, we can’t get too crazy. Cheryl and Walter are bringing Anna back from the park.”
Anna. That’s our little baby girl’s name. She was 6 pounds and 3 ounces when she came out and she’s been the apple of her father’s eye since then. I’ve never in my life thought I’d see that day when Ethan Kane began to change diapers.
But it’s true.
Walter and Cheryl. That’s another surprise that I never saw coming. Turns out our assistants decided to follow the example that their bosses set and get together as well. Who would have thought it, huh?
But they balance each other out. Cheryl is strong where Walter is thoughtful. He’ll come up with the plan and Cheryl will make sure its executable.
Together they’ve been looking after Anna a lot and really taken to their godparent duties with gusto.
“We don’t have to get crazy if we’re quick,” I say to Ethan, standing up and sauntering over to him. He eyes me. I can feel his stare as it goes up and down my curvy body. I smile. I have him. “Besides, a blowjob isn’t sex, right? On the West Coast, they call it a California handshake.”
Ethan grows as my body presses against him. It’s been a long time for him too, and I can feel his hard cock tenting his dress pants.
“Oh, is that your cock, Ethan?” I ask as I rub up against his body. “It feels good, poking into my stomach. I want to run my mouth over the head. I want to lick it, suck it, and make it squirt.”
Ethan’s hands grab me and in that moment, it’s better than any virtual reality I could have had. I have the most amazing man in the world. And he’s all mine. Forever.
“Is that the best you got for me, Man Chaser?” Ethan asks me, pulling me close to him, his nostrils flaring.
“You think you can handle any more of me, Woman Tamer?” I shoot back.
Ethan smiles and I kiss him as he pushes me back to the sofa. My hands are grasping at his trousers and I unbuckle his belt and unzip him.
Sure, we said we’d wait.
But we’ll have plenty of waiting when Anna is back with Cheryl and Walter.
For now, it’s all about celebrating the times to cum.
Second Epilogue - As Told By Brittney
I know it’s been a while now since you first met me, but you ever wonder if things like this could really happen?
I do.
Or at least I did.
I mean, again, don’t tell Ethan, okay? But there are days where I literally wonder if I’m living in a dream.
I have the most handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on. Who seems to have a cock that that can do its own bench presses at times with the power and intensity that it fucks me with. I have a beautiful daughter. Living a gilded life in the skies of Manhattan.
But you know, none of this story would have ever been possible without Alexis.
That’s why when I walk into the master bedroom and see Ethan still getting ready, I tell him to hurry.
We don’t want to be late for the launch, that’s for sure.
“You know, usually it’s the woman that runs late,” I tell Ethan, rolling my eyes.
He glares at me. “You want to tell Cheryl that you have to go to a party when she’s going over the weekly schedule?”
I shrug. Cheryl is a sweetie, and I know Ethan realizes that.
“Besides, what’s this party for again?” he asks me.
I swear, he may be handsome and intelligent and sweet, but sometimes I wonder if he doesn’t have selective memory. Or selective hearing.
“Alexis invited us to the launch of her book,” I tell Ethan. “You know, like I told you at least three times this morning.”
“Oh, fuck. You’re right,” Ethan says. “What book again?”
Oh. My. God.
I swear to…
That’s when I see Ethan smile and give me his infuriating but charming smirk.
“Got you, didn’t I?” he asks.
Ugh. Sometimes I love him, but I just want to punch him.
He comes over to me and stands close. “Here,” he says. “I got you this.”
He pulls out an envelope and hands it to me.
“What is it?” I ask even as I open it.
“Alexis wanted us to have it in case our lives ever got interesting again,” he tells me.
I look at it. Its a single paper.
With a few contact details.
Alexis Angel:
Email: [email protected]
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/alexis.angel.754
Newsletter: Naughty Angels.
Newsletter Link: http://eepurl.com/cu4ET9
I look up at Ethan. “Do you think our lives will continue to be as interesting?” I ask him.
He smiles at me. I’m sure that our lives won’t be boring, but I wouldn’t really mind. As long as my family is around me.
“Well, you know, after Alexis wr
ote Red & Blue and the Governor and that Mayor fucking the Senator, or Scandalous about the Mayor’s son fucking his hot stepmom, or Client 5 about Arsen and his phone sex business, she’s been pretty hot,” Ethan says.
“I think the only thing I haven’t read by her is Jailbait,” I tell Ethan, rolling my eyes. This is old news to me. I’m the one that found Alexis, remember?
“Yeah, but did you know she also writes in collaboration with another author called Erin Wright? They’re going to have a new pen name called Mona Cox,” Ethan tells me.
I look over at him. Big, hulking, cut, ripped, whatever you want to call it. He’s talking to me about fucking romance novels.
“Since when did you start reading the works of my author friends?” I ask him.
He smiles. “Since they started writing about the fucking hot as hell sex we have, babe,” he says to me.
He takes a step closer and I can already feel that giant monster sized cock of his poking me. I mean, 12 inches. It’s going to reach me before the rest of his body does if it’s hard.
“You know we have a party to go to,” I murmur as Ethan nuzzles his face on my neck.
“That’s what I’ve been doing the last half hour was reading her book about us, babe,” Ethan says. “And holy fucking Christ we are fucking hot.”
Oh, don’t I know it. Remember, the whole thinking I’m in a dream?
“Brings back some memories, doesn’t it?” Ethan asks. “Reading about us.”
He’s right and just thinking back to what you’ve read in the last 75,000 words and actually remembering those experiences - I dunno - I don’t resist as I feel his hands grab my ass and pull me towards him.
In fact, I may actually be doing a little grinding of my pussy against his cock.
Whatever it is, it’s enough to bring us in for a kiss.
And then one more. And another.
Until Ethan unzips the zipper on my dress and lets it fall to the floor.
I stand there in my strapless bra and black lace thong.
“Turn around and bend over,” Ethan tells me. It’s not a question. More a statement of what I’m going to do.
Which I am more than happy to comply with.
As I turn around, I see the clock on the nightstand.
Oh, fuck. We’re going to be late. We can’t do this.
But then I feel his cock against my ass cheeks.
That pulsing, throbbing, giant cock of his. I feel his hands squeeze my ass. My body begins to tremble with lust.
And you know what? I can be late.
I’d rather get fucked by this piece of gorgeous man meat right now than anything else in the world.
Alexis is a sweetie, though, so listen.
You’ve been with me this far. You’ve seen everything.
You’ve kept secrets when it was just me and you talking.
Can you do one last thing for me?
Can you email Alexis or tell her on Facebook that I’m going to be late? That Ethan and I are going to be late to her party.
Tell her, “They’re busy fucking again.”
She’ll know what you mean.
Thank you so much, hun! Love you and hope you had fun!
Hoping You Liked Man Chaser!
We loved putting this together because we loved the tagline, “She calls herself a Man Chaser. Well, I’m a Woman Tamer. Let’s dance.”
So Scandalous is different. But dirty. Think you’ll like it!
Scandalous by Alexis Angel
Client 5 by Alexis Angel - with a new epilogue that has never before been published.
Wicked Lil’ Brat by Alexis Angel
Python by Alexis Angel
Vivian Vs. The Virgin Buyer by Mona Cox (Full length novel, never published. Exclusive content!)
Adrienne & Reese from Stories From The 6 Train by Alexis Angel (Never Before Published. Exclusive Content)
Blaze & Ginger from Stories From The 6 Train by Alexis Angel (Never Before Published. Exclusive Content)
Sharing Seymours - a short story
Our goal in this is simple.
To entertain you as long as we can to give you the best customer experience with the words that we hold so dear. Because while we may be in various corners of the world, the fact that we are sharing these brings us closer together we feel.
Thank you so much for reading!
xoxo
Alexis Angel
Scandalous: A Secret Baby Dark Romance
Scandalous: A Secret Baby Dark Romance
Just looking at him is enough to melt my panties. That’s why I’m not wearing any around him.
Lance Anders. He’s cocky. He’s arrogant.
He’s too beautiful to be real.
But…he’s entirely forbidden.
I’m in a forced marriage to his father. A prisoner in a literally loveless partnership that only exists through blackmail. I have too much to lose.
Besides, I’m 15 years older. That makes me wiser. And my brain tells me to stay far away from him when he comes to visit for the summer.
He’s too risky for me to touch. Too taboo for me to taste. One touch of this Devil’s lips and I know I’ll be damned.
Then why am I captivated by those deep, soulful eyes?
Why can’t I get enough of that shirtless body? And that bulge in his pants. Is that really his…?
Maybe Heaven can wait…
Scandalous is a full-length standalone romance that will have your naughty bits twitching with delight. No cliffhanger. HEA guaranteed.
Lance
SLURP!
I look down at the sight of the nasty slut sucking my cock greedily and I grunt with a self-satisfied air. She’s getting into it. Her body isn’t the best, but I don’t fucking care. She’s the President’s only fucking daughter, and she’s giving me head while my bare ass is resting comfortably on the President’s chair.
That’s right. I’m sitting in the Big Chair itself. Right behind the President’s desk in the Oval Office. It’s night of course, and no one else is in here.
Here’s a history lesson for you. The President’s desk is called the Resolute Desk because it was given as a gift to the United States from the HMS Resolute from Her Royal Navy.
If Abby doesn’t have good aim, it’s also going to be called the Lance Anders splatter pad for when I cum all over it after this blowjob.
Lance Anders, that’s me, alright. And that’s probably the only reason that Secret Service hasn’t hauled me away from here, or building security hasn’t been set on me yet.
Because I’m supposed to be here.
Allow me to introduce myself if you haven’t been keeping in touch with CNN and Politico like the other Washington DC junkies that surround this place. My name is Lance Anders of the New York Anders Family. My father is Michael Anders, the billionaire scion of the media empire bearing his name—Anders Media.
Before you think what a great man my dad is though, let me just correct you real quick. It was my grandfather who built the fucking company to what it is today. Starting with newspapers, and then moving on to radio. Then magazines. Finally television and film. And toward the end of his life—the man worked till he died—the Internet.
My dad, well, he just built on it. Went into fucking politics. He says it's to protect the family business. Whatever. He just probably likes the power. I don’t remember much, when he and my mom were married - I think I was 2.
Oh right, I call him my Dad because he’s all I’ve ever known. My mom died shortly after marrying that asshole. He became my legal guardian. But we’ll talk more about how I haven’t talked to him in forever. Right now I’m fucking this bitch.
She moans again lewdly and I think I love politics. My Dad said I should go into politics too. That’s basically why I’m here as a White House Intern right after my senior year at Yale. My dad’s the Mayor of New York City, and with a few favors and a few strings pulled, he’s put his son in at a job where he can sit in the President’s chair and get
a blowjob from the First fucking Daughter.
Speaking of which, I look down. Holy fucking shit! Abby is bobbing her head up and down my shaft like a fucking pro. My cock is in a world of it’s own. It’s throbbing so hard, ready to cum that it must have it’s own fucking heartbeat. Yeah, my dad definitely wouldn’t approve of this.
But you know what? He probably wouldn’t approve of a lot of things I do. Definitely doesn’t approve of the line of tattoos gracing my arms and chest that I got in college while playing football. Definitely doesn’t approve of the fucking assembly line fucking I do of the female species. Although, there’s nothing I can really do about that. The women, they seem to throw themselves at me.
And hey, can you fucking blame them? I’m 21 years old. Young, with blue eyes and dimples. A ripped fucking body. The body of a fucking Greek god. A fucking gladiator. 8-pack abs. I bench twice my weight easily. I have a body fat index of 5%.
But that’s what brings the ladies to me in the first place. First year co-eds, sorority sluts, graduate student assistants, professors, housewives, and now First Daughters. They coo with lust as I take my clothes off and kiss between their neck and their shoulder. Then they get my pants off.
And their eyes bug the fuck out.
Because they see it.
My cock.
12 fucking inches of lust muscle. Veiny, and thick as your wrist. With its head that turns an angry color of purple, and at first they’re afraid.
“Lance, I don’t know….” they say out loud with fear and trepidation in their voices. They try jerking it, but they usually need two hands. I get them off once with my fingers and tongue. And then no matter their protests, I get them to take just the tip.
I’ll probably only be able to sink in half way into them. But by then they’re clawing at my back and screaming for Jesus. They’ve blasted off and gone into orbit, their minds no longer on this level of existence my cock is so good. By the time I’m done with them, they’ve forgotten their fucking names. They’ve forgotten their boyfriends, lovers, spouses, parents, you name it.
