And my life is pretty fucking great. I’ve got a girlfriend who gives the best fucking blow job on the planet. A job that I love, which also happens to pay me eight figures. I live in a city that never sleeps because the party never ends in Vegas. I’m twenty-four years old and millions of women all over the world pleasure themselves to thoughts of me. So you’d better believe when my hot-as-fuck girlfriend says she wants to try something naughty, I’m all ears.
She takes my cock into her mouth and immediately goes for the gusto, pulling me all the way in until the tip prods the back of her throat. I smile as her eyes widen. I expect her to pull my dick out of her mouth, but instead she pushes it even farther back. This activates her gag reflex and her eyes begin to water.
I grab her hair to pull her head back, even though it feels so fucking warm and tight inside her throat, but she bats my hand away. What the fuck is she doing? I can see her chest convulsing as she attempts to hold my dick inside her throat without gagging. But she keeps one hand firmly gripped around the base of my cock so I can’t move.
“What are you doing?”
Her eyes stream tears as she moves her head back and forth ever so slightly. The sight of her struggling is a little scary but also really fucking erotic, I can’t prolong this. I twist my fingers through her blonde hair and come hard into her throat. She slowly slides my cock out a little so I can finish letting go inside her mouth. When I’m done, her face is red from not getting enough oxygen, but she just smiles as she licks her lips. She isn’t finished with me.
She kisses my abdomen just above my dick, then she slowly works her way up my six-pack abs and over my rippled chest. “I want to record us having sex,” she whispers in my ear.
“What?” I ask, not sure I heard her correctly.
She chuckles softly in my ear and her breath sends a shiver through me. “I want a video of us having sex.” She wraps her fingers around my cock and it begins to harden again. “I want to see what it looks like when your cock is moving in and out of my pussy.” She slides my erection between her legs and uses the friction of her thighs to get me excited. “I want to see what it looks like when you come on my face.”
“Oh, fuck.” I grab her ass as I swing my hips back and forth, rubbing my cock between her luscious thighs. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Birdie. That shit can get out and that’s how careers are ruined. But holy shit, I want to fuck you so bad right now. Where did you learn to deep throat it like that?”
“I was watching some porn while you were gone. I want to do it. I want to record us.” She massages my balls as I slide my dick in and out of her thighs. “Do this for me, Max. And I won’t ask you for anything else. Pleeeeease, baby. Fuck me on camera so we can watch it while we’re fucking. It will be so hot.” She steps back and grabs the base of my cock. “I’ll deep throat you on camera and I’ll do that one thing you love so much.”
She wiggles her eyebrows and my dick stands at full attention at this suggestion.
“Well, how the fuck am I supposed to say no to that? Go get the camera and get that sweet ass back here, stat!”
She smiles and immediately lets go of my erection. “I’ll be right back.”
No One Will Ever Know
Present Day
She looks uncomfortable when I finish telling the story. She knows every word of it was true and, regardless of what a complete idiot I was after the fact, she clearly seduced me into making that sex tape.
“Birdie, baby, you don’t have to apologize. I’m a grown man. I knew what I was getting myself into.” She raises her eyebrows skeptically. “Look, I know it’s taken me way too long to say these words, but… I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
She’s not going to make this even the slightest bit easy for me. But I’m not stupid. I know she needs to sign me as much as I need to be signed. She used to go on and on about how much she wanted to work for Pringle & Windsor Management in New York City. And if she’s only been here a few months, she definitely needs to prove herself to her idol, Barry Pringle. But… and this is a huge but (forgive the pun, but Bridget deserves this one), she’s notorious for allowing her emotions to get in the way of her career. That’s why she moved in with me in Vegas four years ago instead of sticking with the internship in Los Angeles. She always puts her feelings for me, positive or negative, before her success. Let’s hope she’s learned her lesson.
But, this is also a big but, if she hasn’t learned from her past mistakes, I may need to employ some cock-surance. Cock-surance is a well-timed, mind-blowing fuck, which is meant to insure I get what I want. I’ve used cock-surance on Bridget more times than I can count. It never fails.
“Baby, I’m sorry for cheating on you and, most of all, I’m sorry for blaming you for my mistakes.” I lean forward in my chair, resting my elbows on my knees, I look her deep in the eye. “Cheating on you was the worst mistake I’ve ever made. And… the worst part of being in prison was not hearing your voice.”
She scrunches her eyebrows together, but I can’t tell if she’s angry or on the verge of tears. So I continue.
“I thought of you every day. I wanted to write to you and tell you everything. I wanted to apologize, but you’re right about me. Not even prison could force me to grow up.” I gaze into her eyes for a moment as she begins to tear up. “It was seeing you today that’s made me realize what an idiot I’ve been. Look at what I’ve done to you. You’ve changed your name and your appearance. You don’t deserve that. You deserve the best, Birdie. You deserve someone who’ll never hurt you. Someone who’ll bring you mint chocolate chip ice cream at midnight… with extra whipped cream.” She smiles and I gaze at her lips as I continue. “You deserve someone who’ll take care of you and worship you… every part of your mind and body… every inch of your skin… every day and every night.”
I drag my gaze away from her succulent lips. She gazes back at me through hooded blue eyes and I know she’s thinking of all the times I worshipped her body. Sex was our religion and I think we earned sainthood with the stuff we did on that sex tape.
I stand from the chair and she holds her breath, her eyes wide as she watches me round the desk toward her. Leaning over, I take her face in my hands and kiss her tenderly. The way she liked me to kiss her after a fight, right before the makeup sex.
“Max?” she whispers against my lips.
“What, baby?” I reply as I lightly trace my fingers over the shell of her ear.
She looks up into my eyes, her face wrought with confusion. She knows she shouldn’t be doing this, but she probably hasn’t been properly fucked in twenty-two months. That’s a long time to go without Max Milan. She’s twitching for a fix.
“We have to be very quiet,” she whispers.
I smile as I thread my fingers through her new dark hair and give it a slight tug. Her eyes widen with excitement as I pull her up out of her seat by her hair. Then I kiss her hard.
She whimpers softly as my tongue strokes hers. Keeping my right hand tangled tightly in her hair, my left hand slides beneath her creamy silk blouse. I massage her breast as I suck on her lip and she moans. She tries to reach for my belt, but I turn her around and bend her over the desk.
“You know how much I’ve missed this?”
I crush my pelvis against her ass so she can feel the erection in my jeans.
“Your obsession with my ass survived prison?” she replies with a chuckle.
I reach forward, grabbing a large chunk of her hair, and yank her head back so my lips are next to her ear. “I’ve told you before, you should be an ass model.”
I pull up her skirt with my free hand. She helps me by slipping out of her white lacy panties and tossing them backwards over both of our heads.
“I’m not helping you look for those later.”
“Shut up!” she shrieks, though she can’t help but laugh.
Bridget was notorious for losing everything from keys to shoes to underwear. She once lost a pair of panti
es in a strip club when she got it in her head that she could give me a better lap dance than a stripper.
Now that I think about it, why the hell did I ever cheat on her? I really was an idiot.
“I’ve missed you so fucking much,” I growl in her ear.
Unbuttoning my jeans, I push them down with my boxers. My cock makes contact with her perfectly smooth ass and just that small touch drives me wild.
“Are you still on the pill, baby?” I ask, rubbing the tip of my cock against her wet opening.
“Shit,” she whispers. “No, I’m not.”
“What? Why not?” I shriek, my dick beginning to soften.
“I… I haven’t been with anyone else, okay?”
And up he goes again. She’s still mine.
“That’s okay, Birdie.”
I kiss her neck and trace my tongue inside her ear as I slide the tip of my cock through her wetness, then I drag it upward. I enter her ass slowly, just a fraction of an inch deeper with each stroke, but she still has to bite down on the strap of her purse to keep from screaming. Her asshole is practically re-virginized after two years of no Max Milan.
I stand up so I can watch as my dick slides into her. I’ve got it about halfway in when she cries out.
“Are you okay?” I ask and she nods as she lets out a low grunt.
I smile as I realize she’s close to orgasm.
I smack her ass and she laughs. “Don’t stop, Max.”
Grabbing her by her tiny waist, I rock my hips back and forth, savoring the heavenly friction as her muscles contract around my cock. I’m really fucking glad I knocked one off in the hotel room this morning, or I’d have blown my load the second I saw her ass. I reach around her hip and between her legs to stroke her clit. She was already on the verge of an orgasm, so it doesn’t take long for her sex-deprived body to yield to me. She writhes and almost kicks me when she comes. Finally, I let go and lie down on top of her to catch my breath, my dick still twitching inside her.
“Birdie? Do you want me to call you Elara?”
She moves a little and I slide out of her so we can both stand. “You can call me Birdie or Bridget. The only people who call me Elara are the people in this office.”
She begins to pull down her skirt, but I stop her and slide my hand between her legs. Her pussy is waxed just the way I like it, with a small triangle of hair above the slit.
“You knew I was coming today?”
“Of course I did. This is never going to happen again and no one can know about this.” I pull my hand out from between her thighs as a knock comes at the door. “Get over there!” she whispers urgently, pointing at the guest chair where I was sitting earlier.
I smile and shake my head as I realize we both played each other. She probably lied when she said she hadn’t been with anyone since I went to jail. We both take our seats and she smooths her hair down.
“Print up the contract, Birdie, and no one will ever know.”
“Come in!” she calls out as she types something on her keyboard and the sound of the printer firing up is like music to my ears.
The door swings inward just a few inches and the receptionist juts her head in. “Um… I’ve been trying to call you for the past ten minutes. Your mom is on line one.”
The receptionist’s eyes keep falling to the floor as if she’s too embarrassed to look up. She must smell the sex in the air.
“Tell her I’ll call her back,” Bridget replies as she continues to send more documents to the printer.
The receptionist looks up, meeting my gaze, she smiles a little and nods as she closes the office door. I turn around and I immediately see the cause of the receptionist’s shyness. Bridget’s panties are hanging from the spine of a book on a shelf behind her. I press my lips together to try to keep from laughing, but when she looks up from her computer all clueless and flushed, I can’t hold it in.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” I chuckle.
“Are you making fun of me?” I stand up from my chair and round the desk until I’m standing next to her. “I told you we’re never having sex again and I meant it!”
I smile as I reach behind her and lift the panties off the bookcase. “You’ve always had interesting taste in decor, Birdie.”
She snatches the panties off my finger and stuffs them inside her purse. “Did she see those?”
“Yes, she did. And judging by the conversation I had with her earlier, she’s a saucy little minx. She’s seen the sex tape and she wants a piece of me. You’re going to have to do some damage control to get her to keep quiet. But I’m sure it’s nothing a new multi-million dollar client won’t fix.”
She glares at me as she reaches under her desk to retrieve the contract she just printed. Slamming it down on the surface of the desk, she reaches for a pen and holds it out for me to sign. I stare at the pen and, for a moment, I consider putting her out of her misery and just signing the damn thing. But I have a strong feeling she set up this whole meeting today knowing she was going to seduce me into signing. Just the way she seduced me into recording that damn video.
I lean over and press my lips to her ear. “Bring the contract to the Four Seasons on the upper east side.”
“I know where the Four Seasons is.”
“Good. And bring your giant makeup case. We have a sequel to shoot.” I lay a soft kiss on her cheekbone then head for the door. “And bring your A-game, Birdie. This is going to be even better than the first one.”
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Volume One
Chapter One
“Oh, Marco, don’t stop.”
His blue eyes are fixed on mine as he grinds into me, penetrating me deeper with each thrust. He’s smiling at me. Oh, how I love that smile. I close my eyes and imagine the first time I saw that smile. Sitting in a booth in the corner of the shop. My father’s arm around his shoulders, congratulating him.
“I’ve missed you, Marco.”
I slide my hand behind his neck and pull his mouth against mine. It feels just like our first kiss, only better. We’re older now. Wiser. I work for the department and Marco, he….
What does Marco do for a living?
“I love you, Marco. Tell me you love me.”
He smiles as he kisses the corner of my mouth, but he doesn’t say anything. I rake my fingers over his back and he doesn’t make a sound. Not a hiss of air through his teeth or a soft moan. Nothing.
“Marco, please.”
His cock is so thick, stretching me as he lifts my leg and pierces me slowly. I wrap my other leg around his hip, beckoning him further inside. Gasping, I throw my head back and he kisses the hollow of my throat. Ecstasy. This is pure, ethereal ecstasy. Dream-like. He slides his hand between us to caress my clit and my body quakes beneath him.
“I’m going to come, Marco. I’m coming! I’m coming!”
A soft chuckle wakes me and I find August next to me. The room is dark and I’m holding his hand prisoner between my thighs. A searing heat creeps up my cheeks as I realize I was dreaming about Marco again.
“Did you come?” August says, and I can hear the smug grin in his voice.
I push his hand back then turn around to face away from him. “Sorry.”
He slides his arm around my waist and presses his chest against my back. “Goodnight, Becky.”
Chapter Two
“When
was the last time you two went on a date?” Lita asks as we cross Vanderbilt.
A jerk in a silver hatchback blares his horn at us. Aren’t hatchback drivers supposed to be stereotypically nice?
Lita and I pause on the corner of 42nd and Vanderbilt, Grand Central Terminal. I make a move to hug her goodbye and she laughs.
“Nuh-uh. Answer my question, Becky. When was the last time you and August went on a date?”
Her light-brown hair is a bit frizzy and her top lip is sweating from the sticky night air. She still manages to look gorgeous, like she just stepped off a photo shoot at an exotic location. Like she’s been spritzed and primped to look exactly this way. Lita hates when people tell her she looks like a model. She actually thinks it’s an insult. She desperately wants to be taken seriously. She gets this from working on Wall Street where her model stature and smooth voice must command notice.
“We’re not dating. We’re in a relationship. Date nights are for married couples trying to revive their relationship. There’s nothing wrong with August and me. We’re solid.”
“Solid as the wall between you. When was the last time you went to his apartment?”
I want to launch into my usual spiel, but I’m actually afraid of how many times I’ve said the words aloud.
August and I have a comfortable relationship. We don’t need to cling to each other every second of every day to feel secure. August loves me. I know that because he remembers my birthday and my favorite ice cream flavor. He knows how many kids I want (two, he wants four). And the biggest plus of all: he’s not afraid to talk about marriage. He loves that I want a big wedding. And as soon as his blog is established enough that he can take more time off, we’re getting married.