24 Inches: A MFM Romantic Comedy

by Alexis Angel

  “You like it hard, don’t you?” I hear him say as the pressure of his fingers on my throat intensifies. He does it until pleasure is flooding my brain, and he stops right before I feel any pain. Logan knows exactly what he’s doing right now, and hell, it’s driving me completely crazy.

  “I -- I do. I want… I want it hard,” I admit between moans, barely capable of any rational thought. My insides are clenching, and there’s a kind of hard pressure mounting inside of me, as if I had a thousand needles stuck inside of me biting at my muscles.

  And, just like that, I explode.

  Logan takes his fingers off of my throat, and a wild scream climbs up in a fraction of a second. I open my mouth to scream, but I don’t even hear the sound of my voice. The pleasure I’m feeling right now is so much—almost too much—and it demands all the attention of my brain. I can’t see or hear a thing, and all I can experience is the wild ecstasy running through my veins in a rush.

  “Oh… God… Oh… my God…” I moan, clawing hard at Logan’s back as he slowly slides his cock out of my pussy. He kneels between my spreads legs and, taking a lungful of air, I prop myself up with both my elbows.

  “Enjoying yourself, aren’t you?” he chuckles, looking at me with the expression of a man who isn’t satisfied yet.

  “I am,” I whisper, my eyes falling down to his cock. His twelve inches are glistening, my fluids covering his length, and I suddenly feel irresistibly attracted to it. Cupping his balls with one hand, I lean in and open my mouth wide, taking his cock into my mouth all at once. I wrap my lips tight around the base of his cock and then roll them back, taking my own fluids into my mouth, tasting my own wetness.

  “Well, well… you’re a wicked one, aren’t ya?” he asks me, but I don’t even need to answer him. I just lock my eyes on his, and he reads the expression on my face.

  “More,” I merely say, the word falling out of my lips like a brick. He attacks me like a hungry tiger; his hands go to my waist and he turns me around fast, forcing me to lay down on the mattress, my back turned to him and my breasts pinned between me and the mattress.

  I grasp at the sheets and, gritting my teeth, I prepare for what’s coming. He lays his body on top of mine, and then I feel the tip of his cock sliding down the length of my ass crack until it’s nestled between my inner thighs and brushing against my pussy lips.

  This time I don’t need to say a thing; he thrusts immediately, driving all of his inches inside of me in one single movement of his hips. Without wasting a single second, he starts rocking his hips fast; his cock slides in and out of me at a furious pace, and that’s all it takes for me to feel that pressure building once more. Yup, that’s right—just a few thrusts and I’m almost ready to come again.

  But, then again, should I even be surprised? Guys like Logan are on a completely different league; they don’t play the same rules the other mortals do. In a way, guys like Logan and Anders are Gods walking among their lesser counterparts. And do you know who’s the lucky girl who has two Gods fighting for her attention? Yeah, that’d be me.

  “Fuck, Logan, that’s so … so good,” I moan against the sheets, biting down on them as my body rocks back and forth, matching the pace of his thrusts.

  “Yeah, it is,” he groans, and I can hear in the tone of his voice that he’s grinning wildly. No wonder, though, a man that fucks like this must do it with a grin on his face all the time.

  “OH, FUCK!” I shout, even surprising myself as my scream erupts in my mouth. I bite on the sheets as I thrust back against Logan, impaling my pussy on his cock. Pleasure erupts through me, making my blood boil as if I were standing inside a furnace. “FUCK!” I can’t help but shout again, and I don’t even know if my heart is racing, or it has stopped altogether.

  “Fuck? That’s exactly what we’re doing, babe,” Logan whispers, sliding his cock out of me. Instead of letting me catch my breath, he just hooks his fingers on my hips and pulls me up, making me go on all fours. Then he presses the tip of his cock against my pussy once again; keeping me in place, he drives his cock inside me with one brutish movement.

  I open my mouth to shout again, but my throat is spent from the effort I just did that all that escapes from between my lips is a weak whimper. That whimper turns into a moan as Logan takes his thumbs to my ass and starts caressing my crack; his fingers go up and down the length of my crack, and then he presses one down against my asshole.

  Thrusting hard, he starts rubbing my hole with his index finger; then, without a single warning, he just slides deep into me. My eyes roll in their orbits as I feel his finger inside my ass, and I grit my teeth while I bunch up the sheets with my hands, my fingers turning into claws.

  “So good…” I half-purr, half-moan, my eyelids so heavy that they feel like they’re made out of concrete.

  “So fucking good, yeah…” he groans, pistoning his cock into me as if he has just entered into a trance. Matching his rhythm, I start swaying my body, and I feel my skin prickling as the sound of my ass cheeks slapping against his thighs reach my eardrums. I keep my eyes closed as we fuck, only focusing on the way he pleasures my ass with his finger and my pussy with his cock.

  Before I even know it, that sweet pressure is building up inside of me again, my pussy tightening around his cock like a vice. “Don’t… DON’T STOP!” I shout at the top of my lungs and, as if my words had a magical effect, I feel his cock throbbing hard against my insides.

  I come again in a flash, my mind going blank just for a fraction of a second. It’s as if there’s a storm inside my skull, one made of wind, thunder, and lightning. One so vicious that it simply can’t be tamed. And that’s exactly the way I like it.

  “I’m gonna cum, Lana,” I hear Logan groan, and that sets off something inside of me. Before I can even think of what I’m doing, I let myself fall forward on the mattress, and then I turn around fast. Lying down in front of him, my head level with his cock, I reach for him with my lips.

  I take all of his inches inside of me and, using both my hands and mouth to stroke him, I drive him to the edge of climax and throw him off it. In the blink of an eye, his cock starts pulsing almost too violently against my tongue, and then I feel his warm seed flooding my mouth.

  He fills me up in an instant, and it doesn’t even take a second for his cum to start dripping out of my mouth and down my chin. I keep my lips wrapped around his cock as he cums, trying to take as much as I can and not caring one bit about the thick strands escaping from between my lips.

  “Jesus fuck,” he groans with a hoarse voice, tangling his fingers in my hair as he cums. When his cock gives its dying spasms against my tongue, he holds still for a few seconds and only then starts to slide his cock out. “Show me…” he whispers, placing two fingers under my chin and forcing me to look up at him. “I want to see it…”

  Obliging, I smile at him and then open my mouth wide, showing him the mess his seed caused inside my mouth. Then, without him needing me to tell me what to do, I close my mouth and just swallow, the raw taste of his semen burning its way down my throat.

  “Nice girl,” he smiles at me, and I kneel in front of him. Brushing my thumb over my lips, I pick a stray lock of cum that hangs there; then, without a moment’s hesitation, I take my finger to his mouth. I part his lips with my thumb and, sliding it inside his mouth, allow Logan to suck on it and his own cum.

  “Nice boy,” I shoot back with a chuckle, finally throwing myself on my back. There’s an exhausted smile on my lips, but my heart's content.

  First Anders, now Logan. Even if I never publish The Virgin Market, I’m already happy I’ve sat down to write it. Because, if there’s something better than royalties, it’s gotta be twenty-four inches of pure pleasure.

  14

  Naughty Angel Newsletter

  This? Or That?

  So today’s NL is dedicated to a very special newbie author who we have here at Naughty Angel Publishing. Her name is Lana Hartley and you’ve seen her mentioned prolly a few
times. She doesn’t have an Angel last name yet, we still call her Lana Hartley, but that’s only because she hasn’t published anything yet. But already, she’s taken the office by storm with just the shit that goes on around her.

  I mean, no one can focus on anything because all everyone keeps talking about is whether she should settle for Logan or Anders.

  So today, I’m gonna do a this or that question for all readers of the Naughty Angel Newsletter. What do you think? Logan Kane? Or Anders Carter for Lana Hartley?

  We’re not gonna use their profile pictures because this is a text only email, but let me describe the two men.

  Anders is the strong, silent alpha. He’s not too much of a bad boy. But he’s rock solid and stable. He’s used to always staying on the straight and narrow and you can tell that once he settles on a girl he’s going to make that woman happy forever. Sure, he’s been with plenty of chicks I think, but he’s always upfront and honest if he doesn't see a future. He’s reliable and punctual and will be the kinda guy who shops for groceries with you and handles paying all the bills and takes care of everything so that you can sit and watch Girls. He’s going to own your body, and there won’t be any question that you totally belong to him.

  Logan Kane is the bad boy out of the duo. He’s a dirty, dirty boy too. I think he’s slept with more women than I can count. He’s like Aidan used to be I figure. But underneath all that is a heart of gold. He’s gonna give you a wild time if you fall into his orbit. Expect that Mr. Bad Boy will swirl you up into his orbit and your life will be like two hundred times more exciting. He’s never gonna drive a minivan. He’s never gonna wanna move to the country and give up his condo in the city. He’s probably gonna let you decide how to raise the kids and help them with their homework, but he will always love you and respect you. You will never be bored—that’s for sure.

  So both men have their pluses and minuses. Anders is strong and silent and alpha. Logan is alpha and a bad boy. I think they both totally love Lana. But who is she gonna choose? This is so interesting! We may even write a book about it!

  Of course, you’re more than welcome to come find out the gory details as they happen at Dirty Lil’ Angels on Facebook. But until then, tell me what you think by responding to me here!

  Hugs and Kisses and Lots of Love!

  Abby

  15

  Logan

  After what happened with Lana, it’s been hell to focus on anything.

  Even at the studio, where I just fucking give it my all, I can’t seem to focus on my poses. Even the photographers have noticed that I’m not my usual self. I’ve phoned in my last photo shoots, and that’s the first time I’ve ever done something like that. Even when I show up at photo shoots as drunk as a skunk, I always pour my fucking soul into what I'm doing.

  But now…

  Well, fuck it, let me just say it out loud: now I can’t stop thinking of Lana. Or, to be more precise, I can’t stop thinking of her sweet pussy. It’s just perfection itself turned into flesh. Delicious, tight flesh.

  Of course, it also doesn’t fucking help that Anders has been breathing down my neck all fucking week. Always giving me shit about giving up on Lana and her manuscript… Jesus, what the fuck is up with that guy? After he read Lana’s manuscript it seems like he found God again. Which, if you think of it, he’s almost funny—a jaded guy like Anders, to be this over the moon with a fucking manuscript… Lana must be one hell of a writer, that much is for sure.

  But does he really have be such a hard ass about the whole thing? I guess that he just can’t tolerate that Lana hasn’t decided to go with him right out of the gate. Well, tough luck; it’s never easy for any man when Logan’s around. That’s just how I roll. It’s in my fucking genes, and I never apologize for it. Ever.

  “One more,” I wave my empty glass of whisky at the bartender, and he just gives me one curt nod and brings back the bottle to the counter. He pours me some more and I take another sip, closing my eyes as I feel the burn of the whisky on my throat. I’m not that big of a drinker (after all, I have an eight-pack to look after), but I figured that a few drinks would help me take my mind off Lana, even if just for a few hours.

  I’m at The Flatiron Room, and just like always, the place is completely packed. I’m sitting by the counter, drinking a Nikka whisky and listening to the jazz quartet playing at the end of the dimly lit room. A few women are eyeing me from their tables, and I can tell that I’d be able to get some action if I was so inclined.

  Unfortunately, it’s just the fucking opposite. The more I drink, the more my mind drags me back to the few hours Lana spent with me at the hotel, her naked body aching for mine, my hard cock pulsing hard inside her pussy, and—ahem, fuck, you see what I’m talking about? That woman is a drug, there’s no other way to put it.

  Maybe fucking someone else would help. Maybe these two women sitting by themselves in the corner… they sure as hell have been looking my way ever since I stepped in here. Maybe I could bring the two of them back to my apartment.

  Ah, fuck, no! Just to think about fucking someone else… I don’t know, okay? It just seems fucking wrong.

  “What a coincidence to see you here,” I hear someone say, and I turn around on my stool to meet Grady’s heinous face.

  “What the fuck are you doing, showing up like this?” I ask him, surprised to see him here at a regular bar. I figured that assholes like Grady only got out of the house to eat cheese and drink wine with their cunt friends. I guess I was wrong; live and learn.

  “Just happened to be passing by,” he tells me, that sociopathic smile on his face. Man, what I wouldn’t pay to be able to wipe that smile off his face with my fist. He’s lucky I’m only on my second glass of whisky, or else I’d be taking a swing right now.

  “Yeah, sure,” I whisper, turning my back to him and going back to my whisky. He sits on the stool next to me, and my nose tells me that he must bathed in cologne before leaving the house.

  “I need that manuscript, Logan,” he starts to say, and I just sigh. Here we fucking go again. That fucking manuscript. Why the fuck is everyone so obsessed with that thing? Are the words Lana put down on the paper made of solid gold?

  “I heard you the first time, you know?”

  “I think you did, yes. But I want to make sure you’ve understood all of the implications. If you fail, you --”

  “Yeah, yeah, you’ll fucking ruin me if I fail. I got that, okay? It just isn’t that easy to steal a writer from under Abby Cleveland’s fucking nose. Besides, Anders Kane is already after Lana as well.”

  “Anders?”

  “Yeah, Anders. I’ve been trying to seduce Lana, but Anders is doing his fucking best to cock-block me.”

  “If Anders is involved…” Grady starts to say, but I think he’s talking more to himself than to me. “That must mean that manuscript is good. Very good. That just makes it all the more important for you to get me that manuscript and make Lana sign with Bad Boy Publishing. I need that book.”

  “I’m on it, alright? Jesus fuck,” I sigh, taking a bill out of my wallet and placing it under my now empty glass of whisky. I can’t drink a single drop more with Grady by my side; he just makes my stomach fucking turn. I never liked the guy but now, after meeting Lana, I just hate him even more.

  She’s just a young woman, trying to follow her dream, and this fucker is already trying to take advantage of her. He’s a really classy act, no doubt.

  Grabbing my coat from the counter, I throw it over my left shoulder and, without bothering to glance back at Grady, I start making my way out of the bar.

  Thanks for ruining my fucking night, Grady.

  16

  Anders

  No matter what I do, Logan is on my heels making things difficult.

  He's trying to get around me. Sneaking in visits with Lana.

  It all pisses me off.

  Typical Logan.

  It's really not surprising.

  And who knows what he's saying p
rivately to Lana? But I can't worry about that. I knew I had to make things right, so Lana has agreed to meet with me yesterday and we talked.

  We met for coffee, and I apologized as she blew the steam from the top of her latte.

  "I didn't mean to speak for you," I said, and she seemed to understand.

  I'll never forget her words. She said, "Apology accepted, but remember that I can make my own decisions."

  She said it with such finality. And she's right.

  I never should've put words into her mouth. I assumed way too much, and way too fast. I was excited to work with her on the manuscript, and I jumped the gun, plain and simple.

  And it didn't help that Logan was breathing down our necks, complicating the situation.

  I won't make that mistake again. That much I can promise. Lesson learned.

  So now I'm meeting with Lana again, at the Naughty Angel Publishing headquarters, and I plan to keep my cool. She either wants to work with me, or she doesn't.

  It's ultimately up to her.

  But if she wants my help, I'm here for her.

  I think I can help turn her manuscript into a best seller, topping the Rainforest.com charts.

  I walk into her office, and see her sitting behind a desk. She's wearing black heels and sheer nylons, and the way her legs are delicately crossed at her knees make my cock twitch.

  Don't ask me why. My cock has a mind of its own sometimes, but I can tell you that she looks fucking sexy. I can picture running my hands up her thighs, and up further still, up into—

  "You're here early," Lana smiles, truncating my train of thought.

  She stands up from her desk, and walks over to me, embracing me in a hug. I wish I could extend the embrace—her smell fills my brain, and the way her warm breasts press against my chest drives me wild. I can feel my pulse race at her touch.