by Vivien Vale
Part of the rush of sex with a man in a public place is the excitement and thrill, wondering whether we are going to get caught in here. It gets my adrenaline pumping, pushing for it to be fast and hard so I can get the most pleasure before somebody walks in on us.
Aaron rubs my clit while he pounds me from the inside out, driving me wild.
“Fuck, I’m going to come again!” I shout in abandon as the ecstasy consumes me.
My clit is so sensitive and engorged that it doesn’t take much for me to collapse into the earth-shattering perfection of climax. I’m in a trance, a blissed-out zone, as my body shakes with pleasure.
Aaron holds onto me, helping my trembling body as I rock back and forth with my orgasm. He grins wildly at me, obviously proud for being able to inflict so many orgasms on a woman in one night.
He’s going to go home and have a dear diary moment, I laugh to myself. He’s adorable and the sexual chemistry and attraction between us is substantial. He’s probably been with a lot of women, but I’m sure he doesn’t always feel this good; I can tell by the way he’s smiling.
After I come again, I’m so wet that I’m literally pouring my soaking pussy juices all over the couch that we are sitting on. The leather sticks to my ass but the wetness helps the friction remarkably.
I know that Aaron is close to orgasm himself, I can see it gleaming in his eyes, the spark and fire ignited by amazing sex. I relish the moment as I wait for the glorious moment when he comes.
“Fuck yeah,” he groans.
Then, just as I predict, he exclaims and announces that he’s close to blowing his load.
Right before he comes, he spins me around. I cry out with wonder as he pushes my head and shoulders down.
“Drop to your knees, now,” he orders, and I do as he commands, ready to obey his every wish.
He pulls out of me with a suctioning and a little ‘pop’ sound. His hard cock is throbbing in front of my face, wet and shimmering with my own pussy juices and cum.
“Fuck, I’m coming,” he groans and takes the tip of his cock and shakes it in front of me.
His hot load squirts out all over me, splashing my face with warm wetness.
“Do you like getting facials, baby?” He grins and chuckles through his orgasm, shaking his cock to get every last drop out—all over me.
To show him how much I appreciate my new little facial, I lick up every last drop as it flies onto my face, reveling in the perfect taste of his hot load.
“Baby, I could do this all night. I’ll never get tired of tasting your cum.” I give him a seductive stare, but I don’t actually have to put any effort into because that was so fucking hot and I’m horny as fuck.
His body shakes, and he trembles as he collapses on the couch beside me.
“We make a great team,” he pants.
“High five,” I say, and we slap hands, barely able to move a single muscle in our bodies. I could use a workout like this on a daily basis.
Now I just need to figure out where Aaron wants to go with this next.
Chloe
Before I get into the steamy hot water, I dip my toes in just a little. If the water is too hot, I’ll need to add a little cold water.
With the temperature tested, I glide into the bath. I don’t use our four-claw old-fashioned bath very often, but when I do, I feel like a real princess.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath in before releasing it slowly. All my muscles start to relax, and I can feel myself unwind from the stresses of the day. As usual, I’ve not stopped all day.
The bath at the end of the day is a real treat for me—one I should have more often.
Oh, how I love the smell of rose-scented bath foam. I’ve tipped in a little too much, a moment of inattention to blame for my mistake. My hands can build mountains out of the amount of foam floating around me, and none of my naked skin is visible with all the white covering me.
And it does smell absolutely fucking delicious.
The hot water on my skin feels so fucking perfect, I groan. I feel a tingle all over.
Of course, I can’t help but return to the other night. The night when I said goodbye to my principles and fucked a man I had only just met.
I giggle at the memory.
Even now I can still feel Aaron’s cock on my skin, in my body. Fucking him was fucking fantastic.
It was a little like a dream. I mean, who goes out thinking they’re going to meet some fucking hot guy who buys you a drink and then goes on to have one of the best fucks of your life with him? Well, I certainly am not someone who thought this would happen to her.
Sure, those people using the dating site, they might expect this to happen to them, but not ordinary good girl Chloe. Chloe does not do such bad girl things. Though I’m starting to wonder if playing Mr. BadBoy has unleashed my inner bad girl.
My thoughts stay with Aaron and his amazing cock. He was so big. My pussy exploded with pleasure when his pulsing shaft entered me.
Little fireworks exploded in my head, and my body felt as if molten lava were spreading through it.
Another groan escapes my lips as I replay some of the other highlights. My fingers play with my breasts and roam over my own body to my pussy.
“Fuck,” I sigh. “Stop reliving what happened.”
I open my eyes again and pick up some of the bath foam. I dab some on my nipples, chin, and cheeks. To distract myself, I play like a little kid with the foam until there’s only half of it left.
My body’s luxuriating in warm water, and life’s pretty good.
A buzz from the stool I’ve got set up right next to my bath has me turn my head. Before I pick up the phone, I dry my hands on the white towel I’ve left out just for this purpose.
Carefully, I reach for the phone and enter my password.
I never used to lock my phone. And then Cassie told me of a story on the news and I decided I needed to up my security.
According to the story, some local politician had left his phone lying unattended on a table in a restaurant while he used the restroom. Upon his return, he found some journalist snooping around and looking at his phone. Since the device hadn’t been password protected, this journo got all kinds of information.
I don’t have much sympathy with politicians, but since that story, I’ve gone to the trouble of locking my phone.
A little shiver runs down my spine as I think of the same happening to me. Some secrets I would not want to come out. What would Cassie think if she knew I was masquerading as Mr. BadBoy?
With my password accepted, I go to Thebadboys.net. Here I spend a bit of time flicking through the pages of new women who are interested in Mr. BadBoy.
When this is your job, you can’t spend too much time checking and double-checking.
Everything looks good. Message numbers are steadily increasing. My boss is going to be more than happy with the women I’ve cat-fished.
I can’t help but grin from ear to ear.
With the touch of my finger, I flick to my own profile page. This is my feature section where I really lay it on thick. It seems to be growing in popularity with members of the site.
The comments are encouraging.
I scroll through them.
“BadBoy, you fucking rock.”
“You’re a legend, BadBoy. When do I get a turn?”
“I wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of you, BadBoy. Just the underside you.”
“When can we meet up, BadBoy? I’m yours.”
I smile. I ignore the requests BadBoy has to meet chicks. BadBoy’s too busy to play around and meet every woman who throws herself at him. My boss wants me to be super selective. And if I can score Ms. Winters? Fuck yeah, payday!
I’m turning ideas over in my mind. There’s plenty of stuff I could do to win her over. But she’s also a bit of a challenge. I gotta go balls to the wall with this one.
Having set the standard pretty high, I need to live up to BadBoy’s reputation, too.
&
nbsp; Ms. Winters seems like the perfect woman for my boss. She’s smart, sassy, sexy, and apparently every man’s dream. She’s so sought after everyone on Thebadboys.net wants her.
I just have to figure out how the hell to thoroughly vet and screen her when I can’t exactly show up for a date with her.
The door to my bathroom suddenly flies wide open, and my sister enters.
It’s just like her to come barging in without knocking. She’s impulsive and always acts before she thinks.
I lower the phone, clicking out of the app, careful not to drop it into the water.
“Yes? Where’s the fire?” I look at her with raised eyebrows.
Cassie’s pouting. She stops in the doorway and puts her hands on her hips. She’ll be a handful for any man brave enough to take her on, that’s for sure. Ethan has his work cut out for him.
“What makes you say there’s a fire?” she asks with a furrowed brow.
I laugh.
“You have to ask? Look at you barging in on me as if the house is burning down. Haven’t you heard of knocking?”
“Why would I knock? I know you’re in the bath and you’re alone.”
I can’t think of a suitable response.
“Never mind. What’s the matter?”
“We’re going out. I came to tell you to get out of the bath because we are going out.”
Despite myself, I groan. “No, Cas, not again,” I protest. The last thing I want to do is go out. “I’ve got work to do.”
Now Cassie stomps her feet.
“You’ve always got work to do. I’ve been stuck inside this house forever, and it’s time you got your head out of the computer screen and into the real world. I’m bored, Chloe. Really bored, and besides, it’s not good for you to be stuck in your computer world talking to people all day. Mixing with real people from time to time won’t hurt, you know.” She pauses. “Maybe you’ll meet another guy like you did the other night.”
I lean back in the bath and sigh. Sisters. They can be a fucking pain in the ass.
But then again, they can be real sweethearts when they want to be.
I roll my eyes. “Okay, fine. We’ll go out.”
If I don’t agree, she won’t leave me alone anyway. May as well appease her and agree to go out.
Cassie does a little victory dance and skips away.
There’s the sound of a bell ringing, and I glance at the screen. You have one new message.
I open up the message and feel my heartbeat increase a little as I read the message.
It’s from Ms. Winters.
It is only four words, but they take a while to sink in. Their meaning could not be any clearer.
Will you meet me?
My mouth feels a little dry. Will I meet Ms. Winters? No, the question is actually will Mr. BadBoy meet Ms. Winters?
Of course Mr. BadBoy would love the chance to meet this charming woman, but what about me?
The question swirls around in my head like a fly buzzing around and around.
It would be interesting to meet her, wouldn’t it? But how the fuck am I supposed to do that?
I chew on my bottom lip. The question is unexpected. But then that’s life is it not? Full of unexpected moments?
And if you did not grab these unexpected moments, you could miss out. Like the other night with Aaron.
Mr. BadBoy was also born out of an unexpected moment, and ever since his birth, he’s only made life more interesting.
Perhaps I’ll think about my response a little.
Mr. BadBoy doesn’t have to reply instantly, after all. Mr. BadBoy could be offline, doing something only a bad boy would do.
With a sigh, I put the phone back on the stool and decide to get out of the bath.
If I don’t, my sister will be back in a flash to drag my ass out herself. Once she’s made up her mind about something, she’s unstoppable.
But the whole time I’m getting ready, I can’t stop thinking about how I really do want to check out Ms. Winters in person. As I’m applying my mascara, an idea hits me.
Yes! Why didn’t I think of this sooner?
I grab my phone and send her a message.
Aaron
So, I’m getting out of the shower and staring at my naked body in the steamy mirror.
This little ritual is something I love to do, and it gives me pleasure to watch my cock harden as I grin at myself, staring at my spectacular six pack abs and bulging biceps. I don’t see anything bad about feeling good about yourself, especially if you look this damn good.
I don’t hit the gym seven days a week for nothing.
Is it so fucking terrible that I give even myself a hard-on? I mean, if you could see me…
It’s not like I’m fucking attracted to myself or some shit. But let’s face it. I’m a dude, and it doesn’t take much for me to get hard. And when I see my rock-hard body, well, I think about how hot I look when I’m railing some chick.
I mean, I think about sex ninety-nine percent of the time. The other one percent? I’m probably between dreams when that happens.
The steam in the room billows and curls around my skin, blanketing me in what reminds me of fog through a dense query.
Yes, I can also get deep and dark if I want to.
I lean over to pat my legs dry when I hear a notification ping that chimes through the air in the bathroom, alerting me that I have a new message.
My heart skips a beat, and I cringe at my behavior. I don’t fucking get like this. I’m not supposed to get excited thinking that a woman I’m into is potentially texting me.
I can’t act like a fucking giddy school girl here. I’m a fucking beast.
Carefully, I walk over to the sink and swipe my phone screen up to see who the message is from.
It’s not from Chloe.
Damn.
Oh well…shake off the disappointment, you fucking loser.
It’s Mr. BadBoy. I stare at the screen and read what he has to say. Let’s just take a moment to gauge this guy.
I’d love to accept your invitation to dinner, the text reads.
Great. Fucking great. My catfishing plan is working. He’s buying it hook, line and sinker. At least I think that’s the expression.
Whatever. It took a few days and quite the effort on my part, but it’s all good now.
I’m baiting, and Mr. BadBoy is biting. Alright? That’s the way it’s supposed to work on my website. That’s how I make sure these rich assholes are legit.
Just like my abdominal muscles, this shit takes real blood, sweat and tears. I’m talking power and work. I can’t get ahead in anything I do unless I give it my all, one thousand percent, because one hundred percent is just not fucking good enough for me.
Okay, I’m going to go out on a limb here and be brave.
Would tonight be good for you? I text and pause while holding my thumb over the send button.
Fuck it, I don’t care if he thinks I’m presumptuous. That’s what these men want, a sexy, naughty little girl that isn’t shy about what she wants or accepting offers…or even bribes for that matter. If he takes this, I’ll know he’s into me big time—or at least, the person he thinks he’s going out to dinner with.
Yes. I can’t wait to finally meet you in person, he writes back.
Of course, this can’t really happen because I’m simply posing as a girl, the elusive and mystical Ms. Winters. I’m sure Mr. BadBoy would fucking shit a brick if he showed up to the restaurant and there I was, sitting at the table in a suit and tie. The idea of it makes me laugh out loud.
So that’s obviously not what he wants, but I still have to take the game as far as I can and stretch it beyond my comfort zone.
I’m excited too, I tell Mr. BadBoy, and after I hit send, I stare at my face in the mirror once again as a devilish sneer spreads across my lips.
I fucking love my job. I’m not into duping people, but I like being good at what I do.
Hmm…What should I wear tonight?
No…that won’t work. Too strong.
Should I go for a trendy look?
No…it’ll look like I’m trying too hard or something.
The restaurant we’re going to is upscale, and when I say upscale, I’m talking white table cloths while a man in a tuxedo plays classical piano next to your candlelit table.
Romantic, yes.
It’s a damn shame that Mr. BadBoy won’t get to go home with Ms. Winters tonight. It’s gonna be such a heartbreak for the poor guy.
Sometimes even I forget that Ms. Winters is a fictional character that exists only in my imagination. I’ve become so engrossed in playing her lines that it’s becoming automatic for me to think and speak the way she does.
Maybe I’m just that fucking good at my job, or maybe it’s just my ability to dream up the most elaborate schemes and concoctions in my brain. My creative abilities and end up being talents. Not that I’m complaining. I ensure my company is top-notch and at the same time, I’m amused. Win-win.
Walking to my closet, I stand there pondering what attire will be best to go with tonight.
I know I’m not going to be able to really meet Mr. BadBoy tonight, because he’ll be expecting a woman, something I’m obviously fucking not. He’s hoping to catch a glimpse of Ms. Winters, something I’m technically not either, but I’m certainly the brains behind the operation. It’s natural I’d want to look the part.
I retrieve a stylish long-sleeved black shirt and a pair of pants to go with it and begin dressing myself right away. Then I go back to my bathroom where I splash on the hottest cologne I have with the best fragrance.
These audits are vital to the operation of the Bad Boy website. The whole purpose of setting up these little dates or engagement interactions is to scope out the clients to see if they fit the Thebadbosy.net brand image I’m going for. We can’t have posers using our name to scam people. That’s how you do business, you cross-check carefully. That’s how I built our name, and how I got to the top.
I chuckle as I place my watch on my wrist. Any guy ballsy enough to use the name “Mr. BadBoy” on a site named Thebadboys.net has to fit the exact image that I’m trying to promote here with my site. He’ll stand for everything the women seek to find in here. Or at least he better. I mean, that’s why I’m checking him out.
