So in two seconds, I was on my knees in back of the girl, tongue buried in that crevice between her ass cheeks.
“Ohhh!” she moaned, lifting her face to the ceiling, eyes closed, lips half-parted. “Ohhh!” Abby sang again.
And I did it then. I took a deep lick of her asshole before pushing in, burrowing my tongue into her behind.
“Fuck,” I muttered into that musty hole. “Fuck fuck fuck.”
And just like always, it was perfect. There’s something about her female musk, that unique aroma, the feel of her anal walls on my mouth that makes me lose it. My shaft was out in a second, big palm fisting it like mad, and before I knew it, I was coming. Yeah, the girl’s got me wound up so tight that one taste of her ass, one tiny taste of her anal hole, and I came like a fucking geyser.
But I didn’t just shoot my sperm onto the floor of the bar, spraying my cum on the expensive carpet. Instead, I stood just in the nick of time and began shooting onto her anus, pointing my dicktip at that brown hole and jizzing hard, again and again, against her asshole.
“Unnnh!” Abby moaned again. “Yes!”
And without any hesitation whatsoever, the girl reached in back of herself with two hands and pulled her ass cheeks apart, hole gaping so that the semen went straight up her back end. Oh yeah, flying squirts went right into the target, most of it straight up her anal canal, and then Abby did something that shocked even me. The brunette bent over further, and her hands crept downwards so that she pulled apart the lips of her labia, opening up that vaginal canal.
“Right there Daddy,” she panted desperately. “Right there, give it to me right there.”
And fuck, but I was a lost man. Because it was so hot, her cooing voice, the big curvy body with its mountains of flesh, all of it available to me, wanting me, beckoning for more. And like a man possessed, I did it. I sprayed right into that pussy, lash after lash of cum going into her interior canal, painting her insides with a coat of male fuck. Oh god, oh god, I was in completely over my head. If I’d believed myself to be in control before, then it was obvious that that was a bald-faced lie. Because Abby had me in the palm of her hand, I was a slave to this nubile, innocent female, and there was nothing I could do about it. The cards had been laid on the table, and the only thing to do was to go along with this godforsaken plan now.
CHAPTER FIVE
Abby
The ball was amazing. As Jared ushered me inside a cavernous room, I inhaled deeply, looking around. Because it was illicit beyond my wildest dreams. Everywhere stood billionaires dressed in tuxes, a sea of black and white, each and every one handsome, imposing, huge and gorgeous.
But even more amazing were the women. Because the women were just like me, young, fertile, nubile, all of us dressed in nothing but high, high heels and g-strings, our assets out for all the males to see. Sure, we were done up to the nines with perfect hair, perfect make-up, our nails polished and trimmed, but everything was out for the men, underlining our status.
Because this is the Billionaires Club, and it’s an all-male set-up. Sure, there are female billionaires in the world, but I have no idea who they are. Peruse any magazine, and all they ever talk about is Russian oligarchs, hedge fund managers, and billionaire Wall Street types running the world. There are no women, and as a result, the Club has no female members.
But the difference in dress really threw the power differential into relief. Because it was clear that we were here to please the members, that our scanty clothes, our big boobies and high heels, were only for the men. Left on my own, I usually throw on a college sweatshirt and jeans, comfy sneakers on my feet. So yeah, the display of titties, of barely-clad cunt beneath the tiniest scraps of fabric made it oh-so-clear that we were here at the pleasure of the men.
And even now, my man was at my elbow, growling, barely acknowledging some of his friends. Because Mr. White was tense, that huge frame imposing, exuding energy. He should have been happy, this was exactly what he’d planned, taking me to the Ball to show me what the Club was about, to make me want to sell myself. But instead, he looked like an angry bear, almost snarling, hand firm on my elbow.
“Relax,” I whispered to him. “Relax, you’re among your brothers.”
The big man didn’t even acknowledge me, jaw stiff, blue eyes steely yet anguished.
“Relax,” I tried again. “Trust me, things will be fine. I’m even dripping with you right now,” I added on a breathless whisper. “I’m gonna have to change my panties, there’s so much of you.”