Overworked

by Dark Angel

  “So good…” I moan, not even knowing if my heart's still beating. “I want more.” Instead of swaying my hips, I stop doing that and prepare to use what little energy still remains inside of me. I start jumping on his cock, and I do it hard. He’s cupping my ass as I go, and I lean just a bit forward, slightly bending his cock down and imagining the pressure he’s feeling right now.

  “Fuck,” he exhales sharply, slapping my ass again.

  His whole body becomes rock solid and I can’t help but jump on him with all the strength that I have in me. Suddenly, he hooks his fingers on my waist and pulls me down hard onto him. I sit on his cock and he is so deep inside of me that I almost black out from the sensation.

  Suddenly, I’m out of my mind with ecstasy.

  Pleasure rages through me in a way I’ve never felt before, utterly consuming my mind. I’m high on sex; I’m high on Jake. And as his cock spasms again, his load shooting deep into me, I moan so hard that my voice starts to disappear, my throat going hoarse and scratchy from just how much the pleasure is ripping through me. He keeps coming for a long while, the seconds ticking away as a torrent of cum takes hold of me.

  Only when he becomes still do I roll to the side and lay back against the seat, my limbs sprawled. I didn’t even notice it, but I’m covered in sweat, locks of hair plastered to my face. I want to speak, I want to move, but there’s not a single reserve of energy inside of me. I gave it my all, and in return, I’ve been sacrificed at the altar of pleasure.

  Jake turns to me and kisses me on the cheek.

  “Just lay back...I’ll take care of you.”

  “Yes...” I nod, Jake’s lips traveling down my neck. His mouth hikes down between my breasts and over my stomach, only stopping when he has his head right between my legs. Tenderly, he starts licking my folds, taking care of the cum that’s dripping down my thighs. Pushing his mouth into me, he sucks my folds in, wrapping his lips around them and taking in every single drop of cum I have on my pussy. I remember that this is us fucking first thing in the morning…but I think about the level of shower I need after how hard we just fucked. I can’t say I’m bothered by that—when Jake and I fuck, we hold nothing back. We go all out. I come so hard I might black out, and that’s not the kind of thing that a girl just trades in.

  I think Jake feels like we’re in a good place, judging by the excellent job he’s doing licking up every drop of what’s left of our fun. After he is done licking, I feel like his tongue has almost prepared me for another round, but I think that way leads to something other than a workday, and we will have to get some work done at some point.

  Satisfied with the job he’s done, Jake sits up, lying back with his body pressed against mine. “There...much better now,” he whispers, smiling at me. I run one lazy finger over his lips, an errant drop of cum still hanging there.

  “Yes...much better.” With him, everything’s better. I can’t believe how incredible fucking Jake feels.

  "I'm not done with you, actually," Jake says with a laugh.

  "Oh my God!" I cry out. I start laughing too.

  "Oh, are you not up for it?" Jake taunts me, and he knows that he's got me now.

  I turn to look at him over my shoulder. "Jacob, I could never get enough of you fucking me, and you know it," I say, and I push my ass up.

  His fingers hook into my thighs and his cock is buried deep inside me before I even have to time to think about it.

  And what is there to think about it? I need him to fuck me until neither one of us has energy anymore...and then I need him to fuck me some more. I seriously don't think I could ever get enough of him fucking me. We don't know how to do quick, slow, gentle, or simple. We do throat-rending, pussy-exploding, cum-covered bodies kinds of sex that makes you break out into a sweat when you think about it later.

  His cock thrusts into me harder, slamming into me with an energy that makes it feel like it could be our first time fucking, not his cock driving home inside me again for another time.

  His thrusts are completely obliterating me, my pussy spasming around his thickness as he goes in and out. Can you die of too much pleasure? I’m about find out.

  I feel nothing, absolutely nothing but the constant ramming of his cock. It goes in and out at a manic steady pace, throbbing and pushing back my inner walls. When he’s in deep, I’m sure there isn’t a fraction of an inch inside my pussy that isn’t filled by his massive cock. He only has to make it twitch inside of me to draw a violent moan out of my lips. My body seems to have a secret valve of sound just for expressing how good it feels when Jake fucks me.

  Can he even go any deeper? I wonder as he slams harder and harder into me, and my pussy aches for more. No matter how much he fucks me, I'll always want more. I find myself trying to get him deeper, so I open my hands and put them to my side, pushing back with my ass and lifting it up. Jake eases his pressure on me, leaning back as I go from laying down to being on all fours. He slaps my ass hard with the back of his hand, grabbing my ass as he thrusts his hips forward and restarts his assault.

  “Fuck!” I growl out. “It’s so, so fucking good.” I'm panting now and unable to contain just how intensely the way he's fucking me is affecting me.

  I want him to go harder but, even before I have the chance to beg him for that, he leans forward and starts pounding into me with so much force I reach to grab the edge of the leather seat, as if that’s going to help me when this man pounds his cock into me so damn hard that I almost forget my name. Amazing, though, is that that I can't forget his name, my body repeating it like a prayer as it tries to escape my lips. "Jacob, fuck," I finally manage in a whispering moan.

  Two slow and deep thrusts, and I let out a scream so loud that I think people on the other side of the world heard it and my voice comes back. I jut my ass back into him as needles of pleasure stab each square inch of my body, like fireworks going off underneath my skin and lighting up my mind.

  “I want you to come…” I purr. “I want you to come inside of me, Jacob…”

  He leans into me, his lips against my ear. “I will,” he whispers, pulling his cock out and making me roll over on the leather seats. Without allowing me even a second to reel from the orgasm, he grabs my legs and puts them over his shoulders. I bend like a willow tree as he sheaths his cock inside of me, its tip hitting that sweet spot of complete destruction. I scream as he goes back and hits it again, my limbs jerking erratically as if I’m being tasered.

  “Don’t stop! DON’T STOP!” I scream at the top of my lungs, my voice bouncing back on the walls and filling the limo as he keeps hitting that tiny and yet so powerful spot inside of me that so much pleasure hinges on and probably has its own zip code just for Jake. He fucks me so well and always pleases every spot of me. My whole body trembles as he grabs my legs and leans with his whole body into me, his cock tightly pressed inside of me and completely demolishing me. I want him to desecrate my rational mind and envelope me with the lust that only his cock creates in me. Jake takes me to a primal place of need that I don't ever want to leave.

  I come so violently that even though my eyes are open I can’t see. I don't need to; fireworks go off under my skin and waves of pleasure erupt like a series of shocks shooting through my entire nervous system. I cry out in pleasure as his cock jerks and gushes a river of cum inside me, the hot and sticky fluid that I crave filling me up so perfectly. Jake's fingers hold my thighs so tightly that I'm imagining his fingers burning hot on my skin there.

  I close my eyes, bells ringing in my ears. Am I dead? Is this heaven? His cum drips down my legs like an endless stream, warm and delicious as it slides down my skin. I don’t know if I’m still alive, but this must be heaven.

  My whole body, as well as my mind, is numb. I can’t feel a thing, aside from the pleasure that burns in my veins like a drug, of course.

  I’m gasping for air, trying to remember myself, where I am, and what the rest of the day is supposed to be like, but for a long time, my mind can't grasp anyth
ing. No thoughts, no reality. I'm so incredibly caught up in the lustful moment, I just bring my hand to his chest and feel his heartbeat, some biological urge making that the only thing that matters to me. I feel it hammering in his chest and I almost want to tell him job well done, but I couldn't form words right now if I wanted to.

  But then I remember...I'm actually going into the office. His office. This power hour of fucking was just the prelude to a pretty full day, and I've got to compose myself...and my clothes. I start to laugh, pulling my clothes up and making do with what I have, straightening this out here and making sure this isn't covered in cum there. I'm pretty proud of the job I do and I look over to Jake, putting on his clothes. It makes me realize that if you truly find someone irresistible, even the act of them putting on clothes is erotic to you. After everything we just did, watching Jake put his clothes on just makes me want to tear them off more. The man makes me totally insatiable, and I relish the fact that before we get to the office, I can kiss him just a little bit longer where the taste of our cum still lingers and appreciate just how insatiable he makes me. Then, we arrive at his studio building. With a full day ahead of us, we go to work.

  Jake

  Layla looks so fucking sexy over in the corner of my office. We’ve been in for an hour or so—we rode together in my limo—and she’s looking over viewership statistics for ACL. She’s totally engrossed in what she’s doing and doesn’t notice that I can’t seem to keep my eyes off her. I like having her with me. I said it before, but it’s true. I could get used to having her around. At work, at home. All the time. It’s crazy talk, right? I mean, I’m the ultimate ladies man. Every guy wishes he could be me.

  Yet all I can think about is that having someone special to spend my time with is way better than having a thousand random women lining up for me.

  “We’ve narrowed it down to about ten at this point,” Toby is saying.

  “Mm hmm,” I mutter, my eyes still on Layla.

  “But I think there are several that really stand out among the others…” He keeps on talking, and I zone out again.

  What’s going to happen when Layla makes her decision? And then what about when the show starts back up? Do we actually have a chance at a real relationship? It seems complicated. But at the same time, I can’t imagine things going back to the way they were before.

  “Dude!”

  I jerk my eyes over to Toby, who looks completely exasperated.

  “What?”

  “Did you hear a single fucking thing I said?” He’s grinning like an idiot now, a ridiculous smirk plastered on his face.

  “Oh, um, yeah. Sure. Ten guests.” Is that what he said? That sounds right.

  “I asked you a question.”

  I shake my head and squint. “Um, could you repeat it?”

  Toby laughs loudly, getting Layla’s attention now.

  “Dude, you're so distracted.” He gives Layla a knowing wink. “Can’t say that I blame you. But seriously, we need to figure this out. What do you think about Meghan Mitchell?”

  “The actress?” Layla asks, an odd look on her face.

  “Yeah,” Toby says excitedly. “She’s like the hottest new A-list starlet right now. Having her on the show would be huge.”

  “She wants to come on ACL?” I ask, knitting my brows together. “Why?”

  Toby sighs, and then looks at me like he’s having to explain something to a kindergartner. “She’s a fan of the show.” Picking up a paper, he waves it in my face. “And not just any old fan, apparently. Like a total super-fan. I think we should go with it.”

  He’s got my attention now. That would be good for the show. “You’re right,” I say, leaning forward. “She’d make a great guest. I’ve been trying to figure out how we could keep the ratings as high as they were before the hiatus, and think this is the way to go.”

  The sharp sound of a chair scraping across the floor makes me look back at Layla. She’s standing up, some papers in her hand and the weird look still on her face.

  I start to stand, concerned, but she walks toward me, somewhat stiffly, and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek. “I need to go. I have some outside research that really can’t wait.”

  I frown as she leaves. She didn’t mention that earlier when we were talking about our plans for the day.

  When I look back at Toby, he’s still grinning like a fool.

  “What?”

  “Man, you are so fucking pussy whipped. Never thought I’d see the day.”

  “Shut your hole, dude.” But I can’t help laughing. He’s kind of right.

  “I mean, you haven’t been able to get your head in the game all damn day. Next thing I know, you’ll be wanting to change up the show and turn into fucking Dr. Phil.”

  “Watch it, asshole,” I say, pointing my finger at him, but still grinning good-naturedly. “I may change my mind about you and get someone else to guest host if you keep this shit up.”

  I haven’t had a chance to tell Layla yet, but I decided to let Toby guest host the first episode after the hiatus. He’s been bugging me about it for long enough, and it was an easy answer for the moment.

  I haven’t figured out how to handle the fact that I don’t want to play my part on the next episode now that Layla’s in the picture. I’m sure that would hurt her. I sure as fuck wouldn’t be cool with seeing her go down on some other dude, so I’m not going to make it a double standard, even if it technically is my job.

  Toby holds his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine. I’ll back off. God knows I’ve been after this guest host spot for fucking ever. Not going to ruin it now.” Yet he still gives me a sly look. “So when’s the wedding?”

  I roll my eyes and lean back in my seat, clasping my hands behind my head and crossing my knees at the ankle, trying to go for a casual look. Hoping Toby doesn’t realize that his words just drove home all the crazy thoughts I’ve been having all day.

  “Whatever, man.”

  Toby scoffs, apparently unconvinced. “No, you don’t get off that easily. You’re trying to tell me that you aren’t serious about Layla? That you don’t have feelings for her?”

  I shrug.

  “Because from where I’m sitting, it’s pretty clear. You just handed over the next show to me, giving me the chance to go down on the hottest woman in America right now. So the way I see it, it’s one of two things.” He pauses, and I raise my eyebrows, going for indifference. “You’re either in love or you’re dying. Nothing else in the world would make you do this.”

  I just sit there feeling shell-shocked, sure that it’s written all over my face. But I can’t keep up the charade when he’s just dropped that kind of truth bomb.

  Holy. Fucking. Shit.

  He’s right. I don’t want anyone else. Only Layla. Because I’m in love with her.

  Layla

  I’m trying my hardest to focus on the woman speaking to me over the phone, but it’s really hard to keep my mind from wandering. I keep getting this horrific picture of Jake and that actress, Meghan Mitchell. Just the idea of having to watch him go down on her has me feeling sick.

  I mean, I know I don’t have to watch. I won’t be able to, honestly. But even knowing that it’s going to happen has me sick enough. I don’t know how to deal with it. I knew this was something that I’d have to deal with. I mean, it’s what he’s built his career on. I can’t exactly ask him to walk away from it. Especially when I’m not even sure how he feels about me.

  I know he’s genuine at least. I’ve had my doubts wondering about the possibility of him just trying to use me to get the FCC case dropped. But those doubts are long gone after the last couple of days. Still, I don’t know if he cares about me the way I know I’m starting to care about him. I can’t just be like, Hey, Jake, I know your entire career was built on the success of this show, but how about walking away from it just for me?

  Um, no. Even if the idea of him burying his face in some other woman’s pussy night after night has me sick to my stom
ach, I’d never ask him that. That’s just not okay. That doesn’t make it any easier.

  “I just can’t say enough wonderful things about Jake,” the woman on the phone gushes. I swear she sounds like she’s giving an infomercial about the sex god that is Jacob Kent.

  Trying to regain my focus, I continue with the interview. This was one of the integral pieces of my job looking further into this show. I originally thought I could get better insight into these women and how much Jake’s show fucked them up. It was my trump card in the game of toppling the cunning linguist.

  But when I started these interviews a little over an hour ago, I was dreading them. I no longer want to stack up a case against him.

  Which makes it a total relief that every single woman I’ve spoken to has done nothing but sing his praises.

  “It may sound crazy,” the woman continues, “but he changed my life. Truly. I can’t imagine where I might be if he hadn’t taught me how to celebrate my own sexuality. It’s like there’s a whole other world out there I’m only just starting to experience. You might not get what I’m trying to say, but just believe me when I tell you it was life changing.”

  No, I get it. Totally. Jake has changed my life too. Even though it’s only been a few short weeks, I can’t imagine my life without him now. I don’t even want to try.

  I want to be with him in any and every way possible, I realize, even if it means dealing with his show.

  “Thank you so much,” I tell the woman before ending the call. “Your responses have been very helpful. Oh, and by the way,” I add with a smile. “I’m so happy that Jake was able to help you.”

  Yeah, I can deal with it. Especially knowing he’s helping out all these women. I might not like it, but I can live with it. As long as I’m the one he comes home to at night.