by Abby Angel
“No,” he says sternly, an expression of mischievousness on his face. “You didn’t beg for it…” He teases me, holding me tightly. I try to fight against his hold, but it’s useless. There’s no way I’m going to feel his cock on me unless he hears me begging.
“Please, Arsen. Please,” I whisper, still trying to ease myself down on him.
“That doesn’t sound very sincere, Ash. Try harder,” he says with a grin, not letting go.
“Please, please. I need you to fuck me… I need to feel your cock inside of me. I’ll do anything.” The words fall out from my lips easily, each one of them brimming with true desperation.
“That’s more like it,” he smiles, taking his hands out of my waist. I go down immediately, his cock burying itself in me to the hilt as a shrill scream leaves my lips. Gosh, there’s truly no better thing in the world than having a cock like Arsen’s straining against my inner walls, his veiny shaft ramming me hard.
When all his cock is inside of me I start to sway my hips, rocking my body back and forth as I lean forward and place my hands over his chest. I curl my fingers, my fingernails digging into his chest, but he doesn't’ even register it; he simply bucks his hips at me, forcing me to stop moving as his thrusts grow harder and more violent. I just close my eyes and surrender to him, letting him fuck me with the ferocity of a man that demands nothing less than the whole world.
“Oh, God,” I sigh, his shaft burning its way through my pussy. Pleasure stabs at my mind, poking holes in it as my hormones get thrown into disarray. My pussy tightens around his cock like a murderous vice and I claw at his chest, coming so hard I half-expect my heart to simply burst.
I’m still trying to catch my breath when he sits up, his cock still in me. His eyes lock on mine, and leaning forward, he whispers into my ear.
“It’s time we get started.” His words make my heart feel tight inside my chest, the anxiety of anticipation washing over me. Get started? What does he mean by that? God, I’ve already came four times and only now is he talking about getting started?
He cuts my line of questioning short, placing his hands on my ass and going up on his feet. Moving fast, I lace my legs on his lower back, my arms going over his shoulders. He takes one step forward and pins me against the wall, immediately starting to trust as fast as he can. His cock pierces me so violently that our bodies are rocking back and forth against the wall, my back hitting it and making a loud hollow sound with each of his thrusts. The paintings on the wall start to waggle, threatening to crash on the floor, but we’re way past caring, in fact, we go even harder. One of the paintings crashes onto the floor, the glass shattering with a sudden loud sound; a few heartbeats after that, the second painting comes down, the glass miraculously surviving this time.
With a lustful growl Arsen starts kissing my neck and, pulling away from the wall and still holding me, takes two steps toward the small table on the corner of the room. With just one hand on my ass he uses the other one to throw everything on top of the table to the floor. A lamp, the phone, a bunch of newspapers, you name it—it all comes crashing down in an instant. The tabletop clear, he sits me on the edge, his rhythm building up again.
We kiss, our tongues wrestling against one another as we let desire consume us. We’re tearing the whole place apart and I’m screaming my head off. I start wondering if everyone on this floor can hear the ruckus we’re causing and, as a response, the phone Arsen just threw on the floor starts to ring. He simply ignores it, working his cock into me with the fury of an insatiable man. The annoying sound of the phone fills the whole room for what seems like an eternity, and I pull back from Arsen’s kiss, looking him in the eyes and then nodding at the phone.
Sighing, he slowly pulls his cock out of me and bends over, picking the phone from the floor. He presses the green button and takes it to his ear, his eyes still locked on mine.
“Yes?”
“Mr. Hawke,” starts the voice on the other sound of the line, an hint of hesitation in it. “Is everything alright?”
“Oh, everything’s perfect. Thank you. But I’m busy right now so --”
“Well, sir, that’s exactly why I’m calling your room. I’m sorry for disturbing you but I guess that, uh, you being busy is somewhat noticeable. We have been getting some calls from our other clients and they’re… Well, they’re complaining about the noise, sir.”
“Noise? What noise?” Arsen asks, smirking at me.
“Well, I’m sure it’s nothing, sir,” the man obviously lies, trying his best to be professional while making sure his rich troublemaker client doesn’t get offended. “Just… Uh, make sure you don’t make too much noise.”
“Sure, thank you,” Arsen responds, ready to throw the phone on the ground again.
“Uh. And have fun, sir,” the man finally adds, this time his voice with an edge of genuinity to it, if not a bit of jealousy as well.
Arsen ends the call and winks at me devilishly.
“He’s right, you know? We’re going to have fun.” No more words from him, he pushes his cock inside my pussy again, thrusting furiously as if we had never stopped. He pounds me mercilessly, my hands running up and down his back until I finally place them over his firm buttocks, urging him to keep up the rhythm. And that’s exactly what he does; he keeps the pace until my moans turn into an all-out scream, all the “keep quiet” admonishments from the hotel manager long forgotten. Who cares about a little noise when I’m having the time of my life right now?
I scream so hard my throat burns, my mind exploding as I come. My hands run erratically all over his body as a violent shiver goes up my spine, the pleasure of climax infecting even my soul.
“More,” I pant, my body still reeling from the orgasm. Arsen pulls his cock out of me, and moving as fast as my buckling knees allow me to, I climb down from the table and move up to the wall, turning my back to Arsen and placing both my hands at shoulder-height. I jut my ass back and not a second after he smacks my buttocks hard with the back of his hand. He does it again and again, my ass cheeks burning. Well, this is going to leave a mark.
Arsen grabs me by the waist and, with one simple thrust, he starts fucking me again, pistoning into me as if we only had minutes to live. I move my hips back against him, trying to match his rhythm; even though it’s impossible to do so, this time I don’t quit. I do my best to keep moving, my ass slapping against his thighs as the sound of flesh on flesh blends with my moans.
“Don’t stop…” I mutter. I can’t even hear myself say it, the sound of our bodies collapsing against one another drowning out the sound of my voice. “DON’T STOP!” I scream at the top of my lungs. Arsen doesn’t need my directions, but it just feels good to say it out loud. “Don’t stop,” I repeat a third time, the words only a whisper now. But it’s all it takes for me to come again, the fires of hell racing through my veins as they scorch every single one of my nerve endings.
Even though I’m coming my brains out, I keep pushing my hips back at him, eager to drive him to the edge of insanity. Maybe it’s the way I’m screaming, or maybe it has to do with how I keep thrusting back at him, but Arsen’s cock starts to spasm violently inside of me almost immediately.
“Cum inside of me,” I hear myself saying, his member pulsing with a vengeance as it sprays my insides with his warm cum. I stop moving now, allowing him to empty his whole load - it takes forever, his cock spasming and throbbing as an endless fountain of semen fills me up to the brim. His juices start dripping down my thighs, thick strands of it going down my legs. And still he keeps going.
I grit my teeth and move as fast as I can, taking his cock out of me and turning toward him as thick strands of cum fly everywhere. I go down to my knees in the blink of an eye, grabbing his cock and aiming it at my face - just a few seconds after that and my face is coated in his fluids, thick ropes of it on my tongue and lips. I jerk him off, moving my hand back and forth as I drain of every single drop he holds inside of him.
His spasms dying d
own, I slowly peel my fingers off of his cock. I lean forward, reaching for his shaft with my tongue and licking it dry as I lock eyes with him. When I’m done, he joins me on the floor, kneeling in front of me; he places his hands on my chest, smearing his cum all over me as he squeezes my tits hard. His hands slide over my soaked body easily, his own semen acting as lubricant.
“This, everyday. For the rest of our lives,” he tells me, his expression one of love and wickedness. “That’s what I want.”
“No,” I tell him, struggling to get the words out as my lungs work hard to get the air in. “That’s what I want.”
“And that’s exactly what you’ll have,” he responds, leaning toward me and laying his lips on mine. I brush my tongue against his lips, and he sucks it eagerly, cleaning it of the cum that covers it.
“I’ll hold you to that promise, Arsen.”
“You better.”
This right here… This is perfection. Happiness. And if I can have it, anyone can. Just make sure that if you want to go on a quest for a perfect man to stay away from Arsen Hawke… This man right here is mine, just mine. And I’m just his. And that’s exactly how it’s supposed to be.
Happy endings—oh, yes, they are very real.
50
Epilogue - Ashley
“Hi, I’m Tricia Loomis with Good Morning Manhattan, and today I’m at the company headquarters of Hawkelane Media Inc. where we catch up with two of New York City’s most dynamic and successful couples, Arsen and Ashley Hawke,” the news reporter says, standing in the center of the product display room.
Is it me, or is she being slightly condescending?
I’m in the product display room today of Hawkelane Media because Arsen and I are being interviewed by the television show Good Morning Manhattan regarding the runaway success of a revamped adult entertainment company.
Oh right, I may have forgotten to explain, this is one year after that evening at Del Frisco’s. In case you were wondering, my showing up actually was for the best. That’s right. I didn’t come in and ruin everything.
Actually, Mr. Mozorov couldn’t have been more understanding about it. Once he understood that Simulated Pleasures was only profitable because of me, and that I was going away, he lost complete interest in the phone sex outfit. When he realized that a majority of the profits had been created because Arsen was calling me, he also began to shy away from the industry in general. But through it all he was a very charismatic and friendly old Russian man. It was kind of surreal actually, one moment listening to him as to how he was going to bankrupt hundreds of women into sexual slavery and the next moment hearing him tell us stories of his growing up in St. Petersburg during the age of Perestroika.
But that was a year ago. Arsen and I were together. And back then, that was all that mattered. Its all that matters today, too. After that night where we were reunited, there was seriously at least a month or two where I wanted to be by his side every minute of the day. We had sex like five times a day until both of us were worn out.
But once that period ended, Arsen looked at me one day as we lay in bed after having a marvelous afternoon lovemaking session. I was still breathing heavily with my face nestled on his chest when I felt him play with my hair and move my head slightly so he could look me in the eyes.
“What do you think I should do with the last piece of Dad’s legacy?” he asked.
I looked hard at him. “Well, have your reasons for selling it changed?”
Arsen shrugged at me. “I used to feel that there was something wrong with openly hawking this stuff and that’s why Mom wasn’t around, even if she was dead,” he said. “But I get it now that this brings happiness to people’s lives. With my MBA, I could easily make Dad’s operation viable again,” he said.
I propped myself up on an elbow and looked at him. This is the man that I had fallen in love with. “And with my Art History degree, I could handle most of the creative branding,” I told him.
“You wouldn’t want to work the lines?” he asked me with a smirk.
I used my free hand to tickle him. He squirmed, and I moved lower. Without realizing it, my free hand grabbed onto his cock, and I began to squeeze it.
Within minutes, the idea of a reborn Hawke Media Group was being consummated quite noisily on that bed.
“Mr. Hawke, your company has really blazed a trail forward in bringing adult oriented entertainment even more mainstream than it has ever been. Many people call you a visionary. Others call you a smut peddler like your father with fancier technology. What are your comments to them?” the reporter asks Arsen as the news camera points to him. I’m standing to the side, content to let Arsen take the interview.
But he doesn’t listen to my directions.
“I couldn’t have done it without the help of my wife, Ashley,” he says, gesturing towards me. I gasp as the news camera swivels and takes a picture of me. “She’s the one that had the idea for a FaceTime app for our services, a Skype app, and a Facebook Live daily feed. She’s really harnessed social media.”
“Mrs. Hawke, any comments?” Tricia the reporter asks, looking at me. She’s looking triumphant. I don’t understand why she wants to make us uncomfortable.
I’m frozen. I wasn’t expecting to be put on the spot.
It’s true though on some level. Every time we had brainstorming sessions for what to do next, Arsen could execute like nothing else, but he came to rely on me for ideas. But I need to be honest, if it weren’t for his questioning, I would have never have gotten the juices flowing to come up with the idea. And before you start snickering, that’s mental juices, okay? Oh my God, talk about mind in the gutter.
“It’s more of a back and forth between Arsen and I that results in some of the ideas that we have coming to me,” I tell the camera sweetly, belying my thumping heart at being on television for millions. “If he weren’t asking the right questions, I wouldn’t be coming up with the ideas.”
“How did you come up with the idea to partner with Oculus Rift to provide on-demand virtual reality re-enactments of popular romance e-books?” Tricia asks.
“Oh, that’s easy,” Arsen says and the camera swivels back to him. “We were in the shower together, and having some fun, when I said everyone should be so lucky to have someone so good at…” Arsen trails off as he realizes just what he’s done. Tricia has a wide smile on her face, with a gotcha grin. Arsen’s just embarrassed himself on live television. This is what reporters live for.
But not if I can help it.
Taking a deep breath and summoning every last bit of courage I have, I take several steps over to my husband. The man I married six months ago in a wedding that the New York Journal called ‘the Social Event of the Year’.
I wrap my arm around Arsen’s and take my hand and move his face over to mine. He looks at me, and I smile at him. He see’s into my soul through my eyes – and I think he realizes that together, nothing can stop us.
That’s when I look to the camera.
“Arsen and I were having sex in the shower,” I say without any trace of embarrassment and I see Tricia the reporter gasp. “He was fucking me so good doggiestyle, when he said to me that if everyone had someone like me in their lives who could fuck so good then a lot of the problems in the world would be solved.”
“Uh-uhm, right…” Tricia says, starting to visibly sweat.
“That’s when I pulled out and got on my knees and began to suck him off,” I say to Tricia, making sure to look her directly in the eyes. “And I started saying what if we had a movie that went along with a dirty book. And then what if we could somehow take the step of creating that world one step further for people. And that’s how Naughty Realities was born. From shower sex.”
Tricia is visibly sweating. She didn’t expect me to get this raw. It’s only 8 am on the East Coast. People are still getting up.
“Although,” I say sweetly, giving the reporter a break. “If there’s anyone else in this world we rely on more than anything
else, it’s Arsen’s lawyer and his beautiful wife and my good friend, Yasmine.”
Gerard and Yasmine smile from where they’re seated at the couch. They’ve just been married a month ago. It shows in how close they sit and the fact that they can’t stop touching one another.
The interview continues for a little bit longer, mainly with Gerard and Arsen answering questions on the business end. How the proliferation of high-tech phone sex has created a new industry in America. How readily accessible virtual erotic encounters have literally taken the fight out of ISIS when used successfully. And how the future looks for Hawkelane Media.
“Things are looking up,” Arsen says, looking at me as he smiles.
I look down. There’s a tent beginning to form in his trousers. I smile. Looking up indeed.
Within minutes, the interview closes and Tricia and her cameraman are out the door. Gerard and Yasmine follow soon after.
Arsen and I eventually make our way to his office, where he closes the door as I pull myself into him and kiss him.
I can feel my breasts mash against his hard body. I can feel his hands squeeze my ass and I gasp as a finger travels lightly over the opening to my pussy.
Unfortunately, I’m going to have to leave you here. Don’t worry, I’m not kicking you out. You haven’t seen enough yet. There’s plenty more to come. Don’t you ever worry about that.
There’s always more to cum.
51
Goodbye From Arsen
So, yeah, I guess I could go on and on about how we grew HawkeLane Media into one of the giant media conglomerates of the 21st Century. Or I could talk about the fucking nasty things that Ashley and I ended up doing. And you know what, most likely we will. Our story probably isn’t over yet. There’s still a whole lot of fucking she and I have to do, and I’m wondering what it would be like to double team her with someone. Do I know something you don’t? Absolutely. Am I going to tell you what it is? Absolutely not. You’re just going to need to follow this fucking story and this author for the next few weeks, because I think our MFM story is going to blow your mind. Maybe soak your panties. Get your pussy nice and wet, getting it ready to get fucked however you fucking want.
