“Cum in my mouth. Keep fucking my face until you unload, “ she pants out before I ram my cock back down her throat. Just like with her ass and pussy, I switch up my thrusting, pulling back until only the head of my cock is in her mouth before roughly ramming it back into her.
The dominance I feel over her reignites the building of the coming orgasm inside me. As the urge to unload my balls grows closer, my strokes shorten once again. Lana makes the high-pitched noise as her body continues to convulse against what is happening to her.
I pull my cock free, giving her a chance to catch her breath one more time. “Do it,” is all she says before I feel, through my hand tangled in her hair, her push forward. My hand catches up and her face slams into my body. I can feel her nose pressed against me as my hips add a little more insistence.
Her throat squeezes tightly around the head of my cock. Her lips feel like a vice around the base of my shaft. Her arching back changes the angle. Fuck, I'm so close.
A few more short thrusts and I feel my body reacting. The flood of cum is unstoppable. Her involuntary noise vibrates through my cock. I feel my balls tighten and then my hips thrust forward seemingly on their own as the cum rushes through me one more time. Lana’s body shivers with objections as my cum explodes into her throat. Crashing waves of pleasure erupt out of my cock. I can feel my own cum surrounding the head of my cock as she struggles to force it down. My fingers locked tight into her hair, holding her face against my body.
The cum stops flowing but I don’t release her. I keep my cock buried in her until her body finally calms down. My cock is starting to soften before I allow my hips to pull back. The thick strings mix and twist with the white strings of my cum, again, stretching between us with some breaking and falling to the floor.
Lana sucks in air greedily causing her body to heave. I allow myself to fall back, landing on the seat and running along the side of the cabin of the limo. I pant for breath as I watch her recover. After a few moments her hand reaches up. One delicate finger gathers up the lost strings of cum from her chin. She sticks the finger in her mouth, securing her lips around her now glistening skin before pulling the finger back to reveal that it's perfectly clean. She finishes the move with a very satisfied noise.
Leaning back on her calves she smiles at me. The Cheshire Cat grin of hers splitting her reddened face. The expression is a stark counter-point to the streaks of mascara running down her cheeks.
“There are very few men in this world who really know how to fuck a woman,” she says running her fingers through her hair. “That is why I write about them.”
“How is this better than having my cum running down your legs?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.
“These things work very well as a mirror,” she states, turning her attention to her own reflection in the glass of the partition. “You can head to the hotel now,” she informs the driver by lowering the glass just a little. The driver’s “yes ma’am” cuts off as she raises the partition and focuses on fixing her appearance.
“Do you always fuck like that?” I ask, not really sure what else to say and instead letting my thoughts fall out of my mouth unchecked.
“You’d better put these back on,” Lana says grabbing my pants from the floor of the limo and tosses them at me. “Not normally. Finding a man who is willing to fuck like this is really hard. Like I said, that is why I write about men that fuck women like that. I have to get the frustrations out somehow.” She still has that grin on her face.
“Is there anything else you want to do?” the wording sounds lame, but apparently there is no corralling my curiosity post-orgasm.
She looks at me with a lascivious grin.
“Maybe round two?”
11
Logan
Alright, it’s time to fucking shine, I think to myself as I press the elevator button that leads onto the floor where the Naughty Angel offices are.
I don’t really want to do this, you know? But do I have any fucking choice? No, I don’t. That asshole Grady has made sure of that. I either do his bidding or I might as well start looking for a new job. And I like what I do, thank you very much. You don’t expect me to start working as a personal trainer or some shit like that, do you?
So, yeah, it’s not like I have a choice, but to convince that Lana girl to sign with Bad Boy Publishing. I don’t know her, but I already feel bad for her, signing with Grady is worse than signing with the fucking devil himself. But, you know… it’s a dog-eat-dog world, and a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.
When the elevator doors swing open, I step right outside. The whole floor is wide and spacious, and I can see dozens of imposing sleek desks lined between a huge glass panel with the Naughty Angel Publishing logo engraved on it. In front of that panel, is a wide counter with a young man sitting behind it, the receptionist. I make my way toward him and lean against his desk casually. The receptionist looks like he’s in his early twenties, long hair to his shoulders, and he’s wearing a suit. By the looks of it, he’s an intern, but he’s the gatekeeper all the same.
“Hey, man, do you know where I can find Lana?” I ask him, and he raises his head and eyes me suspiciously.
“Lana Hartley, the staff writer?” he asks me, narrowing his eyes slightly. I think that he’s recognizing me, which is only natural… I mean, who wouldn’t fucking recognize me? I’m a fucking legend.
“That’s the one.”
“Yeah, she’s right there,” he says and waves casually behind him, pointing at a girl sitting at a desk in the middle of the floor. She’s tapping at her keyboard at a furious pace, her look of concentration making her face shine.
“That… one?” I whisper, suddenly losing my train of thought. The girl the receptionist is pointing at is fucking beautiful. I hope that you noticed I didn’t say she was hot or some shit lik
e that—no, I really wanted to say beautiful. Yeah, she’s hot as well, but… Fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone like this.
Now, I don’t believe in love at first sight, but I do believe in boners at first sight. And if I’m not careful right now, I’m going to be popping one soon enough.
“That one,” the receptionist replies, but I’m no longer paying any attention to what he’s saying. I’ve already walked past him, my feet carrying me toward that fucking beautiful angel.