by Abby Angel
Lacing my waist with one arm, he lets his hand fall down to my pussy, two fingers reaching for my clit. The moment he applies just a tiny amount of pressure there, I can’t help but let out a scream so loud I’m sure I’m going to have a sore throat tomorrow. But who cares?
I come like a madwoman, pushing my hips back at him with such ferocity that he has no other choice but to slide his cock deeper than before. I grit my teeth as his shaft lodges itself inside me, all of his length pushing back against my inner walls. My forehead is still pressed against the wall, all my muscles burning and trembling with pleasure as I succumb to a perfect orgasm. I take a deep breath, ready to rest for a few seconds, but he doesn’t even allow me that: before the orgasm has subsided he’s pistoning into me again, his body moving with such perfection that I just wish for him to keep going like that for all eternity.
“Oh, God…” I mutter to no one in particular, my arms growing so weak that I have to support myself with my forearms against the wall. Still with his fingers on my clit, he starts to circle it with fast movements, charging my whole body with that sweet electric current of delight.
“Come for me, Ashley,” he says, his voice pushing me toward the edge. “Do it… Don’t hold back.” Just like that I come again, hissing through my gritted teeth as my body starts to convulse. I feel spent and exhausted but somehow I’m still aching for more.
“More…” I beg of him as he starts to slide his cock out of my pussy. “I want more…”
“Don’t worry, I’m not done yet,” he says, placing both his hands on my waist and turning me around. I turn on my heels quickly and, now facing him, our eyes lock. His expression is one of insatiable hunger and I realize that, from this point on, I won’t have to beg him to fuck me anymore.
Moving fast, he places one hand under my right buttock and, spreading his fingers wide, forces me to lift my leg up. I lace it around his waist and over his ass, pulling him in; he comes willingly, grabbing my other buttock and lifting me up from the floor. Crossing my legs behind his back, I place my straight arms over his shoulders as he angles his cock so that it’s aiming right at my pussy. With a grin full of lustful promises, he thrusts, his cock parting my inner lips in the blink of an eye.
This time he doesn’t build the rhythm—no, he goes all in right from the start, moving his hips so furiously that it’s almost impossible to tell when he’s thrusting in or thrusting out. He leans in toward me and kisses me, his tongue immediately finding the way between my lips; our tongues wrestle against one another as our bodies move in a violent dance of sin and lust.
I’m not innocent or naive, and I have a fair share of experience under my belt, but this… Oh, this is something else entirely. I’ve never been fucked like this, so hard that it feels like blue flames of ecstasy are licking me from the inside out, threatening to scorch every single nerve ending I have.
It’s funny, actually—the first time I saw Arsen I put him down as just another creep from the strip club. Sure, he was hot and all that, but I had no idea that he was a Man. Yes, a Man with capital M, one of those guys who you think are long extinct. If this was a Western, he’d either be the bandit or the Marshall—there’d be no secondary role for someone like him. And by God, it’s so damn refreshing! Two months in the strip club and I was already up to the eyeballs with men who spent their whole life adrift, the glistening skin of paid strippers the only joy they take out of life.
Arsen quickly derails my train of thought by going even faster—somehow, he’s still able to do it, his thighs moving so fast that it should be physically impossible. Still with his hands holding me by the ass, he pushes my cheeks apart, moving one hand slightly he reaches for my asshole with one finger and starts to caress it slightly, my brain almost exploding with the sensory overload. His cock ravaging me, his finger on my ass, his chest pressed against my hard nipples… This is too much.
I scream like a banshee, the muscles in my neck straining to accommodate the violence that climbs up my throat. The moment he feels my body tensing up, he presses his finger against my asshole more harshly and slides it in halfway, my ass clenching around it.
Instead of letting me savor my orgasm, he simply keeps thrusting, feeding one more inch of his finger into my ass. My hands turn into claws and I bury them in his back, hard enough to draw blood. He doesn’t even register it: he simply keeps fucking me as if he needed to do it in order to survive.
Scratching his back, my eyelids droop as I feel my eyes rolling in their orbits. The pleasure that rages through me is so intense I still can’t believe I haven’t passed out yet. Do you think I’m exaggerating? Well, if you do, then you’ve never been with a man like Arsen. Seriously, I never believed that such intense pleasure could even exist in this world.
His cock flies in and out of me at furious pace, ravaging me completely as my muscles keep on spasming as if I were having a seizure. Riding pleasure’s peak, I start feeling another wave of ecstasy coming for me; two heartbeats later and it crashes against my mind, scorching all of my nerve endings and making my body go limp. If he wasn’t holding me, I’d just collapse onto the floor like a used rag.
Somehow, even though I can barely feel anything aside from the fires of pleasure, I notice his cock spasming harshly inside my pussy. He’s on the edge as well, and it’s a good thing too; I doubt I could endure one more minute of such delight. Who knew that pleasure could ever be too much?
I sigh deeply as his cock starts to twitch uncontrollably, gushing his warm seed deep inside of me. He stops moving his body as he comes, filling me up to the brim with thick ropes of white cum. He keeps cumming for what seems like an eternity, gushing so much semen that it starts dripping out of my pussy and pooling on the floor at our feet.
Slowly, he lowers me down as his cock finally stops spasming. He pulls it out of me gently, a shiver going up my spine as he does it. I lean back against the wall, tilting my head back and breathing deeply; his hand go down the side of my body and, when I open my eyes, he’s on his knees. Our eyes meet and a savage grin burns on his face immediately. Without warning, he leans forward, pressing his mouth against my pussy; reacting by sheer instinct I lay my hands on top of his head as he licks my folds, scooping his own cum.
“Oh, God…” I whisper, his lips sucking my folds dry. He jabs at my insides with his tongue, pushing it past my inner lips and using it to lick his cum. Pulling back, he goes up to his feet, his eyes never leaving mine. He doesn’t say a word, he just leans into me with slightly parted lips, his semen making his mouth glisten.
I close my eyes as he kisses me, pushing my tongue inside his mouth. His salty flavor inundates me at once, and I just have to open my mouth wide. I take all the cum he holds inside his mouth, feeling thick drops of it dripping down my chin. When my mouth’s full, I finally pull back, my heart almost ready to burst.
“Swallow,” he says with a wicked smile, drops of semen still hanging on his lips. I don’t even filter his command; I just do it. I swallow every single drop of cum, feeling its harsh manly flavor burning down my throat. “Good girl,” he tells me, leaning into me for one final kiss.
Arsen Hawke, where the hell did you come from?
30
Arsen
The rays of the sun wake me up from probably the most relaxing fucking sleep I’ve ever had in my life. I turn around and see the mass of straight, blonde hair, and an arm wrapped around me. In any given morning, you’d probably expect that this would be a normal occurrence. But you’d be wrong. Because I would never have even let them stay till morning.
But today?
Today, it’s different. Today I actually smile when I feel Ashley’s nails lightly scrape over my chest. I let my mind wander as I feel her thigh nestle itself against my naked groin. My cock starts coming to life as I reach over and feel her tight, perky ass within arms reach. I can feel her pussy pressed against my upper thigh. 50 million nerves are attuned to the feeling of her folds on my skin. I could fucking get lost in her body
more than I’ve ever gotten lost in anything in my goddamn life.
But then I hear the beeping coming from the other room. I sigh. It’s the fucking video phone. Most likely it's Gerard. It must have been going on for a while because the beeps, or rings, increase in frequency the longer someone is trying to reach me.
As carefully as I can, I extricate myself from Ashley’s grasp and get out of bed.
I look over at her beautiful fucking body still asleep. She’s so fucking cute. Like a button. Her mouth is slightly open as she breaths in and out and all I want to do is wake her up and eat her pussy again. Then fuck her with my throbbing cock until she passes out like she almost did last night. Then cum all over her and have her suck me dry. God, all I want to do is fuck her so badly. I can tell this is going to lead to problems ahead. Can’t you?
But guess what?
I don’t fucking care. And yes, I had to say ‘fucking’ in there. To emphasize the fuc…the point.
The beeping continues and jars me out of my sexual fantasy and I pad over to the living room. I see who’s calling and see that it is in fact, Gerard. I accept the call and before you ask, yes I’m naked. But that’s fine because I arrange the camera to just capture my upper body; I don’t think Gerard is going to mind seeing me shirtless. But I wouldn't want him to see my giant cock. He’s my friend and I don’t want him to feel any level of insecurity or envy, you know?
“Sorry to call so early, Arsen,” Gerard says once he comes on the screen. I look at the clock. It’s 7:30 am. He’s already dressed in a crisp suit and tie, sitting in his office downtown. The guy must wake up at around 5 to get there from the Upper East Side.
‘It’s not a problem, Gerard,” I say as I leave the field of vision for a moment to turn on the coffee maker in the kitchen. “What can I do for you?”
“Actually, I have some good news, if that’s what you’re calling it,” Gerard says as I come back into view. “Mr. Giannoni has come back from his clients and he’s stating that we might have a tentative offer on a few more of the properties that we’re looking to sell.”
“Which ones?” I ask. This is key.
There’s a pause from Gerard before he answers. “He’s prepared to purchase the whole portfolio, sir.”
The entire thing?
In one shot, I could be done with Dad’s ridiculous smut business? I could free myself from the filth that he peddled?
“Everything, Gerard?” I ask again, raising my eyebrows. “In one swoop?”
Gerard shrugs. “He certainly seems amenable to taking the entirety of your holdings. But if I would suggest an alternative, I would say that we do it piece meal.”
The method doesn’t really matter to me. If I can get rid of everything, then this is something I should totally look into.
But one thing bothers me.
“Gerard, who does this lawyer represent?” I ask. If I’m going to be giving up Dad’s life work for some cash, I want to know who I’m selling it to. Despite the fact that it’s all X-rated smut, I want to make sure at least that I’m not fucking over the people who do the work day in and day out. And that could easily happen if I end up selling to someone shady.
“I can certainly find that out, sir,” Gerard says. “However the buying party is going to be an LLC based out of Delaware, most likely.”
That makes sense. You want to know the easiest country to launder money in? It’s not fucking Switzerland, or the Bahamas. It’s right here. The United States of America. With our secretive banking laws and the ability for one company to own another, anyone can buy anything while still remaining fucking hidden from the world.
“I’m not comfortable selling the entire fucking company if I don't know who I’m selling it to, Gerard,” I say into the video monitor. “I just want to know where all these people’s livelihoods are going to end up.”
“I agree, sir,” Gerard says. “We wouldn't want to sell to someone who is completely disreputable, but I also want to point out that there will be a certain level of…”
“Seediness?” I ask with a smile.
Gerard smiles at me. “A certain type of character who will come to define the market, yes,” he agrees with me. And yeah, he’s got a fucking point. I mean, you’re not going to see blue chip companies like Disney try to buy the Sex Palace on 3rd Avenue that my Dad built in 2010, or the Swinger's Club in Miami. That’s not going to be purchased by Coca-Cola. But still, I want some type of fucking standards.
“I mean, who is this guy representing? Is it a company? Or a person? Something, anything, is all I’m looking for,” I tell Gerard.
“Maybe we should start our transactions with a limited subset of properties then and try to ascertain more information,” Gerard suggests.
That’s a pretty good idea. Give this Mr. Giannoni something and then dangle the prize in front of him in exchange for more information.
“I like that,” I tell Gerard. “Why don’t we sell the entire strip club portfolio first and see what we can find out?”
I’m not worried about selling the strip clubs. The only real employees in a strip club are the managers and the bouncers and they’re all tough as fucking nails. Dad had strip clubs from Myrtle Beach to San Francisco to New York City. Even if its fucking ISIS buying these clubs, the girls will all be able to simply move on and the guys that work there—heaven help anyone that tries to fuck around with them.
“Agreed, let’s get the paperwork sorted on that. And what do you think the earliest we can prepare for signature would…” I don’t get a chance to finish because Gerard interrupts me.
“I think we can discuss this a little later on today, sir,” he says and my eyes flash up to see him on the monitor. He’s looking past me, somehow. “I didn’t realize I was bothering you, Arsen. Thought you normally slept alone.”
I turn around and see Ashley standing at the door to my bedroom. She’s looking into the living room, wearing one of my collared shirts.
God, she looks so fucking cute.
I barely get a chance to register as Gerard says goodbye and hangs up. He probably felt a bit awkward, which is a fucking riot considering that we were talking about selling off pieces of a sex empire.
But who cares about business deals when the hottest fucking girl is standing just a few feet away from me wearing nothing but my shirt?
“Who were you talking to?” Ashley asks, as she takes a step closer to me.
“My lawyer, Gerard,” I say, desperately aware that my cock is starting to harden and stick up. Ashley notices too.
“I overslept,” she says, rubbing her eyes.
“That’s okay,” I say, standing still. “I was going to come back to bed …”
“No, that’s okay,” Ashley says and I can see her hands come up and begin to fiddle with the buttons. She’s got a bit of bed head, and for the millionth fucking time I think how goddamn cute she looks.
“What was he talking about?” Ashley asks me, coming up to me. “Selling strip clubs?”
Oh. Fuck.
Here it is, isn’t it. I never fucking told her what I do. Where all this money comes from.
But what have I always told you?
That I’m going to be fucking honest. No matter what.
“I own the strip club that you used to work at,” I tell Ashley and I see her large eyes grow wider as she looks at me. “The night that I ran into you in the cab, I own that club.”
“You own a strip club?” Ashley asks.
“Among other things,” I reply. “My dad was a big deal in the sex industry.”
Is she going to leave? Is she going to ask me why I do what I do? Is she going to be a prude?
God, I don’t think after what we did last night, she can even be a fucking prude.
But being a billionaire sex trafficker is sort of different from say, being a billionaire banker. I wonder what her reaction will be?
“If you were at the club and you own it,” she starts and comes closer still. “Why did you never
get a dance from me?”
Oh.
Wow. Not what I was expecting.
I don’t say anything as Ashley gently pushes me back and I sit down on the leather chair next to the video monitor I take video calls on.
Ashley turns on some music on her phone and turns up the volume.
It’s 7:47 am and I’m about to get a lap dance from the hottest fucking woman I’ve ever met.
Ashley turns her back to me and slides off my shirt, showing me the back of her naked body.
Her toned ass bounces in front of me as she moves her weight from one foot to the other.
The thing about her is that she doesn’t look like a stripper. Her tanned skin doesn’t speak of countless nights spent under neon nights, and her face still looks fresh and full of candor. She doesn’t seem like a product, built to seduce over and over again, as if in a production line. She looks as real as the girl next door, just perhaps not as innocent.
Ashley looks through strands of her hair at me as I sit a few steps from her. The movements of her body match the flow of the music, her hips rocking from one side to the other. She moves her neck in a circle and, with her hand, whips her hair back.
With a strut to her step she comes near me, her feet making her turn; she leans forward, her ass at my eye level. Her long fingers caress her round cheeks, and I bring my hands up to her ass, resting on the sides.
I can feel my cock stirring as I touch her—her ass is apple shaped, her skin soft and without blemishes, a gentle firmness to it. I allow my fingers to explore, tracing the outline of her ass, my fingertips reaching for and caressing the dimples in her lower back.
She turns on one heel, her hands going down her body as she sways her hips. She can feel my gaze upon her, and my mouth is already dry with desire. Grabbing my hands she guides them over her flat belly and up to her tits. Her nipples are hard against my fingers, almost begging to be licked, and as I gently squeeze she allows a smile to light up her face.
