Moving over the mattress, he kneels right between my parted legs and I finally curl my fingers around his thickness. Smiling wickedly, I start flicking my wrist back and forth, stroking him as fast as I can and already picturing the gallons of cum he’s about to unleash upon my naked body. I have no idea how it's even possible for him to produce such ungodly amounts of cum, but it’s not like that matters. As long as I’m the only one on the receiving end, I don’t care about the magical origins of his seed.
“Cum for me…” I whisper, propping myself up on one elbow as I stroke him. I bite down on my lower lip, my unblinking eyes never leaving his, and he returns my gaze as if he were staring at the most beautiful painting in existence, appreciating every single detail on my face. “Cum for me,” I repeat, lowering my voice until it becomes a soft purr, and a slight spasm makes his cock twitch against my fingers.
“That’s it,” I continue, moving my hand faster than before, my whole arm moving back and forth so fiercely that it just becomes a blur of color. “Do it, daddy…” I whisper, allowing the word daddy to linger on my lips, and that’s when his cock throbs violently against my grip.
There’s the glisten of pre-cum, and then he starts gushing a torrent into me. I open my mouth just in time for the first thick strand of semen to land on my tongue, and I tilt my head back so that the rest goes inside my mouth. He fills my mouth up to the brim in just two seconds, and I can’t help but grin savagely as I feel it all dripping down my face.
I keep on moving my hand back and forth over his cock, stroking him as he cums, and his groans of pure pleasure only make me want to go harder. The muscles in my forearm are burning from the cramps, but I barely notice it; I’m too focused on the way drops of cum splash over my naked chest, covering my tits as if they're a blanket.
He keeps on cumming for a long time, long strands of cum already sliding down my stomach and tracing a straight line toward the wetness between my thighs. A shiver goes up my spine as I feel the warmness of his seed dripping onto my pussy and blending in with my fluids, and that’s when I finally let go of his cock, one final spasm making his cock twitch against my closed fist.
“What a mess,” I tease him with a chuckle, my lips sticking to one another as I speak.
“It’s a mess indeed… but maybe I can help,” he replies, bending over between my legs. Placing his thumbs on the back of my knees, he guides his mouth straight toward my pussy and rests it against my cum-coated folds, sucking them into his mouth and only letting go of them when they’re dry and clean.
Running his tongue up the length of my pussy, he lets it wander up to my stomach, scooping up all the cum on its way, and then he continues all the way up to my breasts. Caressing my soft mounds with the tip of his tongue, and always lingering on my nipples, circling them and sucking, he finally kisses the curve of my neck and chin.
I part my lips, anxious to feel his mouth on mine, and I look into his eyes before he does it. We smile at each other, and then we’re drawn into one wild kiss, our tongues wrestling over a curtain of cum.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he finally tells me, his own cum glistening on his delicious lips.
“And, still, it’s not the first time you’ve done it,” I smile, wiping one drop of cum from his chin with the tip of my fingers. “And you love it.”
“I do… when I’m with you, I love every single fucking thing,” he says before crushing his mouth against mine once more.
And it’s true; I could say the exact same thing about him.
When we’re together, everything’s perfect.
Amy
Two weeks.
That’s how long New York has been in a state of siege. Because, make no mistake about it, this is a siege. The mayor and the governor—my stepfather and my mother—have clashed over my company, and now the fate of New York City hangs in the balance.
Newspaper and cable networks keep on harping about this standoff, and it seems that the scales are tilting in my mother’s favor. Point by point, the lead Parker had over my mom is now eroding steadily.
Her little stunt with the state troopers has paid off, and even after she doubled down on the stunt, it kept paying off.
The city is slowly plummeting into chaos and, instead of seeing the governor as the culprit, a lot of people are turning their accusing fingers toward Parker and I. It got to the point where I relented and asked Parker to allow the state troopers to close down my company.
Of course, he’s refused. Kinky Amy’s stays open and 8 million people are doing without basic services.
As much as I love my company, I simply can’t stand watching the city where I've grown up tear itself apart. Trash is piling up on the streets, the public transportation system is in complete chaos, and there doesn’t seem to be an end in sight to this madness. My mom has cut off all state funding, and Parker has spent the better part of these last two weeks trying to patch a temporary solution over the countless problems that have arisen.
He’s gotten a number of companies and wealthy individuals to lend the city money and things are progressing slowly - lurching from one crisis to the next.
Which is getting harder to do, especially now that the international community is getting involved.
Thirty-seven.
Thirty-seven countries have expressed their concern over what’s happening in New York City. Apparently, cities standing up to state governments with guns is something that the United Nations really does care about. Even countries like North Korea have reprimanded Parker Trask for what they perceive to be “an assault on authority.”
Oh, the irony.
Of course, my mother’s piggybacking on all that. She even made a speech to the UN - live video streamed from the statehouse, all teary-eyed about her beloved city and her corrupt and indecent family. We watched her speech at Parker’s office and, if he hadn’t stopped me, I’d have kicked and punched the TV until it became nothing more than splinters of plastic, glass, and wire.
That’s how mad I was.