Tie Me Up Daddy

“Shit!” came Thorn’s curse again. “Awwww shit!”

And I knew what he was referring to. Because there was so much pussy cream, so much virile sperm that it mixed together and dripped out from between us, leaking down my ass and thigh.

“Mmmm,” I moaned, dropping my head, boobs dragging on the coverlet. “Mmmm.”

Thorn held still in me then, dick still pumping the last remnants of seed into my insides.

“Fuck baby girl,” he rasped, big chest still heaving. “Fuck fuck fuck that was amazing.”

My chest puffed out in pride, the praise like warm honey coating my soul.

“Really?” I whispered, looking at him over my shoulder. “Really?”

But Thorn didn’t answer. Instead he reached down, swiping at the fluids coating his dick.

“See this?” he asked roughly, seizing my eyes with his own. “See this baby girl?”

I gasped. The mix was white and gooey, like superglue.

“This is all you, honey. All you and me and it tastes fucking good,” he grunted, before reaching forwards and pushing his fingers into my mouth. My eyes opened wide with shock, but then my lips closed around those digits, hungry and seeking. Because this was right. I had the billionaire’s cock deep in my puss while he fed me a mix of fresh female juice and sperm. It was disgusting, dirty and nasty, but oh so right because I was with Thorn Channing, my teacher, my boss, the CEO … and I never wanted it to end.

CHAPTER FIVE

Thorn

I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me. On the one hand, what I’m doing with Laney isn’t exactly new. She’s not the first ballerina I’ve fucked, the first recruit who’s paid her dues while flat on her back. Naw, I’ve been down this road dozens of times already, wetting my dick on nubile pussy hoping to make it big.

But she is the first ballerina that I’ve invited into my life. And I don’t mean showing her around the apartment or fucking her in one of my five bedrooms. What I mean is actually hanging out with her, spending time getting to know the girl like I’m a real boyfriend, and not some asshole.

It’s fucking insane. Because what the hell am I doing? I’ve got a company to run, I’ve got women to meet, pussy to take. And yet for the last month, all I’ve been doing is sating myself in Laney’s sweet snatch, dipping my dick in again and again like I can’t get enough.

What the hell? Usually I like variety, I like a different flavor of pussy every day of the week. But lately, all I do is fall asleep with my dick buried in the nubile teen, inhaling the scent of her sweet hair, strong arms wrapped around that curvy body.

And now, I’m showing her part of the real me, the one that’s not just out there for show. Because the gym is my sanctuary, I use it to let go of the stress of the day, to let my mind go blank after long hours at work. Oh yeah, I’m forty-five, and you gotta work hard to keep up a bod like mine. But again, it’s not just about looking good. Sure, exercising helps keep my appearance sharp, chest muscled and thick, abs perfectly cut and defined. But the gym also relieves stress, and against my better judgment, I’d brought my best girl here.

“So these are the weights you use?” Laney giggled, trailing her finger along some silver-colored dumb bells.

“Naw, honey,” I ground out. “Those are fifteen pounders, for the ladies only. The ones I use are over here,” I pointed.

Laney gasped then because I was gesturing to a set of heavy as fuck, charcoal colored iron rods that looked like they could beat the hell out of a horse. Shit, you probably could kill someone with these things, do some real damage.

The brunette giggled again.

“Show me?” she whispered. “Or are we gonna bother someone?”

I looked around. The gym I belong to is high-end, this isn’t one for the masses with crowds of sweaty, flabby people. This place is where models go, where everyone has a personal trainer, and where the membership fee is in the four figures. So yeah, there weren’t many people around.

“Naw, we’re not gonna bother anyone,” I grunted. “It’s fine.”

And lifting one of the larger weights in a massive palm, I squatted.

“See baby,” I demonstrated, holding my arm out stiffly. “See, it’s the downward action that gets you. Releasing after a pump can actually be harder than the pump itself, it’s all about control and a smooth flow.”

I figured I was talking over the brunette’s head, but Laney smiled easily.

“Oh I know Thorn,” she said breezily. “I come to the gym too, you know.”

I blinked. What the fuck? Ballerinas are in great shape, they’re athletes with incredible stamina, but most girls don’t work out. They don’t want to get bulky, they don’t want to ruin the slim-line figure that fasting and hard work and discipline have created.