#Babymachine (Baby Crazy 1)

And I sprang into action then. One hand wormed between our bodies so that I could stroke her clit as I breached that swollen cunt, unable to believe what had just happened.

“You’re a brave girl,” I rumbled against her lips. “So courageous, so absolutely amazing.”

And it was the words that did it. Because tasting a giant cock for the first time is never easy, especially for someone as small as Beth. But my reassurances did it, and with another sigh, another wail, the girl gave in.

“Mason!” she cried out. “Oh god, unnh!”

And with that, her cunt dissolved. It shook with tremors around me, spasming hard, pulling my cock in deeper. And although I’ve fucked hundreds of women, the feel of this tiny snatch milking me brought me to completion immediately. With a choked roar, my fuckrod spurted, giving it to her good.

“SHIT!” was my enraged roar. “Fuck fuck fuck!”

Because usually, I’m a guy who can last for hours. I can literally fuck pussy up and down and all around, before releasing on command. Yeah, my control is unbelievable, I work like a machine.

But all that went out the window with the innocent virgin. Her pussy was so tight, her responses so natural and sure, that I blasted after just one stroke. After just a few seconds in that sweet snatch, my balls emptied themselves, going high and tight before jerking mightily, spraying that pink with virile male semen.

“Fuck!” I roared again. “Fuck shit fuck!”

And that was it. We ground against one another, my dick penetrating even deeper if possible, as Beth moaned and whimpered, pussy dissolving into spasms all around my fuckrod.

“Yes,” she cried out, breasts pressed against my hard chest. “Yes!”

And damn, but it was exactly what I wanted too. I was supposed to be doing this on a bet, for a contest between a bunch of asshole billionaires. But instead, here I was at the mercy of a virgin, blasting like a teen boy doing his first whore. That’s right. I was the one who was out of control, galloping like a crazed wild stallion on the plains. I was the one spurting into Beth’s sweet, creamy cunt with no abandon, lashing that fertile hole with blast after blast of hot white goop.

Me.

The CEO.

The guy who always gets what he wants.

Oh shit.

Because what happens when the tables are turned?

Had I met my match?

No way.

Beth’s just a girl. A virgin at that.

So what kind of game is this?

CHAPTER EIGHT

Mason

Two months later …

I pulled into the underground parking garage and switched off the Maserati’s ignition.

“Have you found a nice girl to settle down with yet, Mason?” my mom chirped through the phone. Rhonda sounded happy at the idea. Sadly, I wasn’t surprised to hear the question. My mom’s been at me to start a family for ages. Probably decades now.

Frowning, I opened the car door.

“Why do you say that Ma?” was my answering grunt.

Rhonda was the only person who thought I was easy to read, even from far away. To everybody else, I was a mysterious and powerful CEO, scary and all-knowing, my pockets full of cash. But to Rhonda, I would always be a small boy in pull-ups, throwing spaghetti with a mischievous look.

So I climbed out of my car and activated the lock and alarm.

“You just sound happier these days,” she hummed, and there was the distinct clink of wind chimes in the background. It sounded like she was puttering around in her garden down in Florida. “It makes me happy. I always worry about you being alone up there in New York. You know, big cities can be some of the loneliest places in the world. You need a woman in your life,” she concluded airily.

I frowned again because there was truth in Rhonda’s words. Even though NYC has fifteen million people, somehow we manage not to see one another. We walk on the street, our eyes fixed in the distance. We bump elbows on the subway, but manage to stare into our phones. It’s pretty crazy.

So yeah, even in a city teeming with activity, you can get real lonely. Especially when you’re a guy like me, at the peak of the mountain giving orders. It’s dangerous to have real friends sometimes, the daggers can come from any direction. So yeah, Rhonda’s words were discerning. My mom knew what she was talking about.

But if I’ve told her once, then I’ve told her again. There was no one special right now. Well, there is someone amazing, sweet as a plum who’d given me her cherry to boot. But it’s hard to explain what’s going on. Fuck book? Players Club? Virgin contest? Hell no, Rhonda would punch me in the face if she found out.

So I parried instead.

“No need to worry about me, Mom. Just the same ole same ole, nothing new.”