by Abby Angel
Moving at a frenzied rhythm, I piston my cock into her with a fucking growl. I go as deep as I can, a scream leaving her lips each time my glans rubs against that inner sanctum hiding inside of her. Closing my eyes, I let my dark instincts take hold of me and I fuck her like I never did before. My movements are raw and harsh, and I can no longer hear her moans; I’m in a world of my own right now.
I feel her fingernails burying themselves in my back, over my shirt, and the sharp pain of it brings me back to reality. She’s moaning like she’s fucking possessed, and I can’t help but brush my lips against her ear.
“Come, just come,” I whisper, and a fraction of a second after, her pussy starts to spasm around my shaft. I don’t stop moving as she comes; instead, I go even harder, beads of sweat already pooling on my forehead. Each thrust of mine draws a quivering moan out of her lips, and she starts to claw at my back, throwing her head back and pressing it against the mirror.
“Oh, God, don’t stop,” she moans, and then her arms start moving erratically. Coming for the second time in a row, she allows a violent orgasm to ride the coattails of the one before. I thrust one last time, forcing my cock to go all the way in, and then hold my position there as she comes her fucking brains out.
When the last sparks of pleasure have faded away, she eases the pressure of her fingers on my back, and presses her forehead against my chest. Slowly, I pull my cock out from her pussy and she takes her legs from my back. As she touches the floor, she has to support herself against the mirror, her legs shaking as if they have become too weak to support her weight.
“Your mouth,” I find myself saying, my cock twitching and aching to feel her tongue once more. Obedient, she goes down on her knees, and curling her fingers around my shaft, dives into me at once. She bobs her head back and forth at a relentless pace, and I rest my hands on her head; this time, I let her dictate the rhythm.
“Fuck…” I whisper, more to myself than to her. Throwing my head back, I close my eyes and just savor the way her lips roll up and down my shaft. Fuck, she really knows how to use her perfect little mouth…
Still with her lips wrapped around my cock, she starts to move her hand up and down my shaft, and I feel on the verge of cumming. I tangle my fingers in her hair and stop her from moving; gritting my teeth, I exhale sharply and let a violent shiver go up my spine. At the time, my cock spasms and I feel the cum rushing through me and into her mouth.
I keep holding her while I come, filling her mouth with my seed. There are strands of cum already dripping down from her lips and onto her chin, but I don’t give a fuck; I keep cumming inside her mouth, even though it’s already brimming with my juices.
Once I’m done, I let go of her head, and moving slowly, start to slide my cock out of her mouth. When it finally pops out, she looks up at me and opens her mouth, showing me her full mouth like the bad girl she is. I grin at her, momentarily forgetting all about the fucking mess we’re in.
I place two fingers under her chin and make her close her mouth. “Swallow. All of it,” I command her, and obedient, she does it. Satisfaction rushes through me as I watch the muscles in her throat move, my cum going down through it. Her chin is glistening from the cum there, and a few drops are already making their way toward her neck and cleavage.
I reach for one of the drawers I keep in the corner and take a dry towel out. I take a deep breath, reminding myself of what I need to do now that the truth is out, and throw the towel at her. She starts to clean herself, going up to her feet, and then adjusts the hemline of her skirt. I watch her do all of it, my heart racing like a motherfucker.
Here she is, the most fucking beautiful woman on Earth, and she had to be working for the fucking enemy. Life can be a bitch when it wants, that’s for fucking sure. But it can’t be helped; it’s time for me to man the fuck up and make the right decisions.
I button up my pants and look at her, knowing exactly what I have to do. I go back to my desk, sit down in front of the computer and tap at the keyboard. Accessing the Illicit Escape code, I downloaded it onto a hard drive and then eject it. Holding it in my hands, I get back up and walk toward her.
“Take it. It’s the code,” I tell her, no emotion to my voice.
“But…” she stammers, her eyes widening in confusion. “No… I can’t… I won’t, Ethan.”
“You will,” I tell her harshly. “It’s the reason you came here in the first place, isn’t it?” I push the drive into her hands and she grabs it hesitantly. I notice that her hands are shaking, and my heart feels tight as fuck inside my chest. “Give it to him, and your problems will be solved.” Without saying one more word, I turn my back to her and sit at my desk again.
She stands there, looking at me with tears in her eyes, and fuck, I just want to fucking hold her tight, but I can’t. I fucking can’t.
“Ethan…” she starts, taking one step toward me. I look her in the eyes and she stops dead in her tracks, anxiety written all over her face.
“You can go now, Brittney. I have work to do,” I dismiss her coldly, as if I wasn’t talking to the woman I love. This is the hardest fucking thing I have ever done. “Go,” I repeat, ice in my eyes and in my voice.
She runs her tongue over lips, and slowly, turns her face away. She starts walking toward the door, and I feel like shit. This is the worst fucking day of my life, that much I can tell you.
“Brittney, one more thing…” She stops and looks back at me, hope gleaming in her eyes. I look back at her, unable to say a fucking thing. But I must do it. I fucking must.
“Yes…?” she asks me, clutching the hard drive against her chest.
“You’re fired,” I say to her and close my eyes for the final bit. “Effective immediately. With cause.”
Brittney
“This is it?” Simon says, leering at the USB drive in my hand. “That’s the software programming for the I.E.?”
I nod.
“That’s exactly the code that Ethan was studying,” I tell him, my voice flat.
Simon let's out a high-pitched squeal of glee and rubs his hands together.
“Finally!” Simon shouts to himself. “That man will get what is coming to him!”
I remain silent as Simon takes the USB drive and kisses it in delight. He looks to me. “They called me shady, you know?” he asks me. “They said I was too sly. All my life, people like Ethan have walked all over me. Because everyone seems to think that just because he’s handsome, he deserves a chance. Or because he’s nice to people, it’s okay to be an idiot. Or because he’s got a good heart, it makes up for being stupid.”
I back away slightly.
“I never had a shot with them!” Simon yells, and I’m thinking it's more to himself than with anyone else. “They thought I was too smart. Too sneaky. Ugly, you name it. But this will show Ethan. This will show everyone. Mr. All-American just got brought down by sneaky ol’ me!”
“Is that all you need then?” I ask Simon, eager for this to be over.
“Just one last question,” Simon says, turning to me. “How’d you get it?”
I look at Simon with a mixture of dread.
How do I tell him that I got on my knees to Ethan.
That tears streamed down my face as I told him how I’d been working for Simon the entire time we’d been together.
That when Ethan and I went out to dinner, it was because Simon was paying me. That when Ethan was fucking me, it was because I was trying to get undercover. That when we fell in love, it was because it had been arranged to be so.
That the only reason his baby is inside of me and I haven’t told him is because he or she only came to life because I was running a con.
That the whole thing was designed to steal Ethan’s greatest creation.
How am I supposed to tell Simon that even after telling Ethan all this, and breaking down and confessing how now I’d gotten in way over my head—not knowing what to do. Whether to run and hide or stay and suffer.
That a
fter all that, Ethan just handed the USB drive to me. Told me to take it. And never come back to work again.
I mean, how would you tell Simon?
Oh, wait. I just remembered who I’m talking to, hun. You would never have been in this situation in the first place right?
Because you would probably have never gotten into the limo. You would have probably never made the choices I did. Probably never have had to worry about trying to run away from a man like Robert McIntyre.
“Well?” Simon asks again, “How’d you get it?”
“Switched it after sex,” I lie shrugging. “He was asleep, didn’t notice.”
“Well they’re going to notice pretty soon,” Simon says.
“I’m not going back, so it’s no bother for me,” I tell him and turn around to walk out.
What? It’s true.
Ethan basically fired me. From his company. And I’m pretty sure from his life.
Have you ever been in a crowd of people but felt utterly and completely alone?
Well, hun, welcome to me right about now.
I mean, that overcast sky might as well just open up and start raining right about now as I walk down 7th Avenue because that’s my mood.
As if deciding to play a cruel joke on me, I hear something that seems like light rumbling as I approach 52nd Street and 7th Avenue, and the first bits of water start to fall on my head.
Great, now even Mother Nature is deciding to hate me.
The bits of rain quickly turn into a downpour as people scramble around me. The skies darken even farther as I approach Columbus Circle, the horses whinnying along Central Park South.
I’ll tell you one thing though, hun. It’s a good thing it's raining. Because the tears kind of get washed away when I see the giant billboard next to the Trump International Hotel & Tower advertising Illicit Escape.
Right there, holding the futuristic glasses, is my smiling face. The tag line, “Revolutionizing Pleasure” written in a sexy font.
I’m glad you can’t see my tears.
It's in these moments that the biggest city in the world becomes the loneliest place on earth.
But it’s nothing that I don’t deserve after everything I’ve just done.
***
The next week is basically like that day. Cold, sad, depressing, and rainy.
I don’t know if you’ve ever been like this. I mean, I had a chance to be happy. I had a chance to settle down with a man that truly, really loved me.
I know what you’re going to say, though. I had an impossible choice. It was either protect myself from Robert or run again.
And why exactly did I sell Ethan out?
Because I didn’t want to run. Because I wanted to stay in New York City and make a home for the baby that I’m carrying. Hoping that Ethan would understand.
I mean, I did go and tell him—at the end. I confessed to lying to him, trying to steal from him, and taking his heart under false pretense.
And what did he do?
He gave me everything I wanted.
He gave me the computer coding for the software that runs the Illicit Escape. He let me keep my home.
He gave me everything I asked for.
But it turns out, while I was on my knees pleading to him to show me mercy, I never once asked him to forgive me and hold me.
To take me back.
But isn’t that the story of my life?
Always thinking about myself?
Leaving teaching to get into modeling full time? Not even thinking about the people who were relying on me when I began to split my time as an elementary school teacher and a model.
And then when a better offer came along, not even considering the implications to others when I moved into porn.
Maybe I deserved someone who used me as casually as Robert did. Maybe I never hit him, but I abused others with my lack of consideration just the same. I never thought about them. Only what was good for me.
That’s why when I finally found out about him, I never gave a second thought to thinking about his wife and child. I just drove.
Got out of there.
I could have gone to the police, maybe?
If not that, I could have tried to warn others. His wife had said there were other women, hadn't she?
And then in New York.
From the very first time Simon came into my life, I’ve thought about myself first and foremost.
Sure, hun, if you’re saying I had to think about the baby at the end, I’ll agree that I thought about the baby.
But there had to have been another way than asking Ethan to give up what he’s worked on for so long.
I just never bothered to see what it was.
To his credit, Ethan seems to keep going full speed ahead with the release.
Only this time, Conners Media, led by Simon has also stepped to the plate. They announced two days ago that they too would be releasing wearable technology designed to let the user experience porn through virtual reality. They call it Wicked Wear.
Ethan seems to not even care, if that’s the right word.
Maybe the plans are so fully committed that he has no option now but to see things through.
In the last week, there’s been a media blitz, including front page ads in the the New York Daily Journal, television spots, a marquee every hour at Madison Square Garden, skywriting, giveaways during lunchtime with Illicit Entertainment starlets, and a massive launch party in Times Square.
It’s the launch party that has the entire city, and possibly nation talking.
It’s being filmed live in Times Square and being carried by all the major networks.
The network morning TV show, Today USA is even carrying it live.
But that’s not why everyone is tuning in.
In perhaps the only nod to Simon, Ethan has challenged him to publicly put his product head to head against his.
He says that the entire nation should be allowed to decide for themselves who has the better technology.
Today USA is even planning on doing snap polls in the moment as people see the products matched up.
I’m a little unsure heading up to the launch date how they’re going to even do the matchup. I mean, are they going to put the glasses on people and ask which one makes them cum faster?
Seriously, if you’re laughing, so am I—but it’s a morbid laughter.
Because I know that with the code that Simon has, he’s had a week to tweak it and make it better. Whereas Ethan probably is looking to alter his software so as not to seem like a copycat product.
I don’t know if this is Ethan’s last ditch plan to bluff his way out of an impossible situation. To keep his head high after being stolen from and hurt by someone he let get too close to him.
All I know is that while I don’t want to watch, I’m probably going to end up tuning in like everyone in the country. If for nothing else than to pray for a miracle.
That’s until the morning of the launch, when I get a phone call.
I look at the phone and my heart skips a beat.
It’s Ethan.
With trembling hands, I answer.
“Hello?” I ask, a bit shaky. The butterflies are in full force in my stomach.
“I’ve sent a car for you, babe,” Ethan says. “I want you to get in it.”
“Why?” I ask instinctively. After a week and a half of no contact, to call me out of the blue and tell me to get in a car.
I’m sorry hun, but the last time I got into a car, it was with Simon, and do you remember what happened?
“Listen to me, babe,” Ethan says into the phone. “I really really really want you to get into that fucking car.”
“Where is it going to take me?” I ask him.
“It’s going to bring you to my place,” he says confidently. I wonder if he’s that hard up for sex that he needs me again. “We’re going to watch the product launch and the match up together.”
Well, let’s just say that’s a surprise.
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I honestly don’t know what to say here.
I swear to you – this is just too much.
I’m just a simple girl from Southern California. I’m not someone who normally plays these games that billionaires play. I’m at the end of my wits.
I’m all check-mated out.
“I just got word the car’s outside, Brit,” Ethan says.
I’ve been silent, but I know that if there’s even a sliver of a chance that I can go back and reclaim the father of my child I’ll take it.
“I’ll be right down,” I tell him, my mind made up.
If there’s even a chance for him and I, I’m going to do everything I can to take it.
For me, yeah. But for him as well. And most of all, for the baby.
Ethan
I can fucking tell the moment the car pulls up to the curb of One57.
I mean, fuck, I could have told you what Brittney was wearing from the moment she got in the fucking car.
I’ve got sensors on the car, telling me exactly where it’s at. I’ve got cameras in the car that I can see the passengers.
The cameras in the car though, that one is actually because we filmed a movie once, two people fucking in the backseat of a limo. That’s not purposely being a fucking spy or whatever. I think we called those series something like ‘Ride Me: Backseat Confessions’ or something.
Anyways, what I’m trying to say is that it’s not a big shocker when I see Brittney getting out of the car and walking toward the entrance of the building as the doorman to One57 based on the tiny micro camera I have installed on the lobby.
Yeah, I get shit for it. Every so often, some billionaire’s bodyguard or intelligence person finds it. They remove it or destroy it with white noise. But for times like this, where I can use this tablet to watch this beautiful woman get out of the limo in a tight black dress that’s accentuating her hips and showcasing her tits, it's absolutely amazing.
