by Ashlee Price
“Oh God,” I muttered.
“It’s okay,” Langdon said, “he’s just blowing smoke out of his arse.”
“It’s not that,” I said, leaning back into Langdon’s cut abs and pecs.
I tiredly clicked on the next video, this one of a popular radio host with long, curly black hair, a big nose, dark round glasses, and a thick New York accent. Sitting in his radio booth, obviously doing a broadcast, he said into his big microphone, “I mean, sure I’d do her. Are you kidding me? That little body, pretty face, hell yeah I’d do her! Can we call her, let’s see if we can get her on the phone.”
Ricardo shook his head. “Guess it’s time to charge that phone.”
I sighed. “Or throw it out the window.”
Chapter 15
A private helicopter took me and Langdon out of Manhattan and over the Catskill Mountain range, craggy and ancient and sheeted with snow. The wilderness was so vast it was easy to forget how close we were to all the glitz of New York City. I almost felt like I was back in misty green Oregon, ice-capped Mt. Hood lording over the slow pace and easy life we treasured out there but absolutely abandoned in New York City.
What had seemed like John Alister’s generosity made a lot more sense as a strategy to hide us away and keep the growing controversy surrounding me in particular from disrupting the company’s already fragile profile.
But maybe he didn’t know about all those stories when he sent us out here. If not, he knows now—and how will that change his whole approach to all this? He’ll be really upset, even enraged.
I guess I’m glad I’m not there to see it.
The Alister vacation home was gorgeous, an A-frame dominating the house, with two and three levels on each side. Varnished pine beams supported the grand structure. Stuffed deer and bear heads hung as trophies on the walls, and the room smelled of cedar. A crackling fire roared in the fireplace.
We lay on the lush Afghan rug in front of the fire, sipping a snifter of cognac that went down hot and soothing. It felt like we should have been celebrating something, but the reality was that we were laying low—and to do it in such an incredible fashion made me feel conspicuous about it. Even though I knew Flynn wasn’t badly hurt, and that word of that was about to be officially released, I couldn’t help but imagine myself enjoying a skiing holiday while he lay on his deathbed. I knew that’s how it would look, and the world was already paying much too much attention to me as it was.
And my folks, I couldn’t help but think, even though they were the last two people I wanted to think about lying there with Langdon. What must they think of me? I’ve really let them down, as far as they know. How am I going to win back their respect?
Langdon said, “Hey, you’re tight as a drum.” He set down his glass and began rubbing my shoulders and neck from behind. His fingers were strong, loosening my retracted muscles, sending blood to flow into my tissues, slowly working out the kinks. “You gotta stop worrying, relax a bit.”
“How can I? I’m suddenly the She-Wolf of Wall Street! But that’s not me, that’s not who I am.”
“So what do you care what they think of you? Matter of fact, you might think about riding that out a little bit.” I turned to glare at him, but he smiled and I faced forward again, enjoying his massage more than my own sense of exception. “She-Wolf of Wall Street, that’s a powerful position. You could get a lot done just by walking into a room with a reputation like that.”
“What could I get done?”
“I dunno, what did you ever dream of getting done? Has it always been fashion?”
I hadn’t given it much thought, certainly not in the frenzy of the previous week. “For a long while now, I guess.”
“Maybe it’s time you gave something else a thought. A charity or something, maybe. We’ve got plenty of money.”
“We?”
“That’s right, Sheryl, we. Like I told that geezer scribe at the police station, once we get all this straightened out, the rest of our lives will take care of themselves.”
It was tempting to believe him. But too much had gone too wrong too quickly, and I found it hard to think that everything would just be fine. In fact, I was becoming more convinced that things were going to get as bad as they possibly could… and then just a bit worse.
“Just trust me, Sheryl,” he said. “We’re doing the right thing, and everything will work out.”
“If you say so.”
“I do.” He turned my head to face him. “I do.”
***
I wanted to show Langdon that I was up to the task of handling a man like him. I wanted him to know I was formidable, capable of doling out as much ecstasy as I was willing to receive.
I took his big cock in my hands. One fist failed to wrap all the way around the base but still managed to hold that monster steady and squeeze it to stifle the flow of energy as necessary. But in the meantime my other hand was pumping hard, drawing that energy up and into his hefty shaft.
Langdon lay on his back, head propped up on the rug near the fireplace, looking down on me with a serene smile. Langdon knew how to dish it out, that nobody doubted. But he was also man enough to know when to lie back and take it, secure enough in his alpha-masculinity not to have to assert it at every single turn.
I gave that mighty stalk a kiss, taking a deep breath of his musk. It filled my nostrils, heady, intoxicating, and saliva gathered on the back of my tongue. I kissed it again, hearing Langdon’s voice in my head.
No rush.
I licked under the shaft near the head, and the engorged meat twitched with delight. I kept pumping him mid-stalk, squeezing the base, noticing his scrotum rising and falling, those lovely balls churning within.
I couldn’t help but smile, eager to taste them and knowing it wouldn’t be long before I’d be doing just that.
But first his meaty cock demanded my attention. I licked the head a few more times, just to tease him a bit before taking him into my mouth. My lips folded over my teeth and my tongue dropped a bit, his delicious dong quickly pushing my jaw open even further. He was salty and tasty, and my tongue swirled around him to touch every exposed bit of it, pulling back before pushing it back in, out and in while I pumped the exposed shaft and squeezed the base. My skull was a toy for his satisfaction. I held my breath while I took him in even further, my throat widening to prevent me from choking.
“Oh yeah,” he groaned, his hand finding my hair, gently stroking but not pushing me down onto him. “You’re so good, Sheryl, so good…” I was inspired, pumping harder and pulling out his saliva-slathered spike to blow sharp, cool streams of air against it. Langdon’s hips rose and rolled, fingers pulling just a bit harder. “Ooooohhhh yyyyeeeaaaaahhhhhhhhh…”
But I was only getting started, and I eagerly climbed further along his body, kissing my way up his muscular torso as his rippling abs rose and fell with his regulated breathing. I stopped short of meeting him face to face, traveling just to where my breasts met his hungry horn. I let his slick dick slide between my tits and pushed them together around it. They wrapped completely around the girth, the length poking up and back as I rubbed up and then down, up and down. His cock slid between my breasts and my nipples rubbed against his skin until they burned, aching, harder and longer than they’d ever been, reaching out for the one they needed.
Langdon’s sack rubbed against my own taught belly as I dragged myself over that wondrous wand, up and back, pressing myself down on it with all my might, pressing my tits to create as much friction as I could, faster and faster as that spit-slick dick stuck in and out. Langdon’s hips bucked a bit faster and his long legs flexed to push himself up against me as he growled from low in his throat.
“You like that?” I asked, my voice a devilish grin. “That feel good, baby?”
“Oh yeah, so good, Sheryl, so good.”
“Gonna fuck you with my whole body, Langdon, give you everything I’ve got.”
I rubbed faster, my entire body a device for Langdon
’s pleasure, and his body reacted in kind, sopping up the loving perspiration that coated us with a dewy sheen. He put one strong hand on each of my cheeks and turned my face upward. Our eyes locked. His half-smile was cocked and his cock was half-smiling, and he pulled me up with ease and gentle power for a long, deep kiss full on the lips.
Once I was on top of him, I prepared to mount him cowgirl style in a close replication of my dream. But this time, I’d be able to look him in the face—and what a face it was! I couldn’t wait to look down into those eyes, those chiseled features, and feel that massive meat inside of me.
I mounted him, already molten with desire and ready for his dramatic measurements. My pussy had already been broken in by his incredible cock, and I knew what I was getting into and what was getting into me.
On all fours above Langdon, I lowered myself onto him. The muscles of my legs instinctively kept me at a comfortable position, with just enough cock to satisfy without hurting me before I was ready for that. Up and down, my hips calling the tune, I leaned forward and glared at Langdon beneath me. He looked up, his hips shifting even as his head remained still with that long brown hair spread out on either side of his perfect face.
I dropped my face onto his, kissing him hard, my tongue probing deep into his mouth, his own swirling around mine, the two meeting in a dark, playful dance.
I wriggled my hips, my orgasm already curling and growing, no longer a resentful prisoner but the princess of the kingdom, ever-present and ready to bask in the sunlight of her eternal popularity. I felt like it wasn’t just another orgasm, but a continuation of the first ones Langdon had helped me achieve on our first night together. It felt like a thing of its own, an enemy turned ally, returning to visit and never truly to leave. It crept around under my surfaces, happily hunting for the right time and place, dancing under my quivering abdomen.
Langdon looked up at me with that exquisite calm, his eyes fixed on mine as if I had some otherworldly, hypnotic hold on him. Neither could I seem to break that steely gaze. I curled up my fist and brought it down onto his massive, muscular chest, the wet thump rising up the only real reaction. He didn’t even flinch.
I dropped my fist down even harder, the thud louder, and a third strike left a red oval in the shape of the side of my hand.
“Good, Sheryl, good!”
I punched him again, and he crackled with laughter. “Harder, Sheryl, harder! You’re stronger than that!” I punched him harder and then harder still, but he only shouted, “Bring it on, Sheryl! You’re a fighter, you’re a lioness!” My body followed his instructions. Even in the moment of my greatest dominance I could help but submit to his amazing will. My fingers clawed out and dragged across his chest, pushing in and drawing white lines across his tan body. He hissed out in what sounded like something between pain and satisfaction. And I fed on that, in ways I’d never imagined I would.
I’m Sheryl Francis, I told myself. This isn’t me. At least, it didn’t used to be.
Before I realized it, my face was pressed against that chest, against sheets of muscle under skin on which red lines were already tracing the white. My teeth dug in to bite his pec just near the nipple.
“That’s it, Sheryl! You’re a killer, you’re a man-eater, you’re an alpha now, Sheryl, you’re a bloodthirsty mandating monster, aren’t you?” To my delirious amazement, I could only growl in response, biting and clawing at him again. “Alright then,” Langdon said, “time to conquer the wild thing once and for all!”
Langdon’s movement was swift and smooth. He flipped me over to put me on my side and was suddenly on his side as well, with his huge hammer still inside me. He craned my right leg up and my inner thigh pressed tight against his god-like torso. My calf became the happy companion of his iron chest as my foot wriggled excitedly and my toes curled. With his hand wrapped around my leg near my hip, he was in perfect control of my body once again, and he began pulling in and jabbing forward in an instant burst of steady rhythm. His height meant that our bodies matched together perfectly in the kneeling position, and his incredible stamina meant he’d be able to go on as long as he liked in this or any other position. I knew full well that even after Langdon came, he’d soon be ready to come again and then again and again. His stamina was matched only by his appetite and his endowment.
And that made me want him to come for the first time that night. But I was beyond controlling the situation. I’d done what I could, and Langdon had taken over, the way he was meant to do, the way I secretly and truly wanted him to do.
My other leg lay slack on the Afghan rug. My hands were empty and my arms useless. Heat poured out of the fireplace. My orgasm was already percolating, my new, old friend returned. It read my vulnerability, sensing the first moment I’d dropped my aggressive facade. It struck me and it struck hard. My body jutted and convulsed, hot juices pushing in and out of my inner chambers. A bubble broke and then rose to break again.
“You’re coming again, you little wild thing,” Langdon said. “You can’t stop coming, you won’t ever stop coming!” I nodded, unable to speak. “But just for me, Sheryl, only for me.” Again, a frantic nod was all I could offer. “Say it, Sheryl!”
“Just for you, baby, just… just… for you…”
“You love to be my sizzling little cum slut, my private little pussy…”
“Yes…”
“But only for me. Nobody else knows you like I do, Sheryl. Nobody will ever know you like I do.”
“No… nobody…” Even these words were making me come, a continuous vibration that had my brain jangling in my skull. I was entranced, half-awake. It was almost an out-of-body experience. I was his slave, and I would have said or done anything he’d said.
“And you love me,” Langdon rasped, his hips still grinding. My body was a river of orgasmic energy, flooding my soul, baptizing me in the warming light of a love I hadn’t dreamt I’d ever have.
Until I did dream it.
But this was no dream; this was my life, and the best moments of it yet.
“Say it, Sheryl.”
“I love you,” I said, “I do, I do…”
“You always did, from the moment we met, even from before that.”
“Yes…”
“You didn’t understand it then, but you do now. You know it’s fate that we found each other. You know that we’re meant to be together and that nothing could ever have kept us apart.”
“Yes… God yes…”
Through the frenzy of the fuck, he said, “And I love you too, Sheryl. I’ve never known such a sweet, strong, supple little slut as you! You’re fearless, Sheryl, you’re a giant, towering above all of them, above all of us!”
I couldn’t respond. My mind was swimming with visions of myself I’d never considered. They were visions of a different person; not the girl I was, but the woman I was becoming.
“And we’re not going to be apart, Sheryl, not ever. Now that we’ve found each other, nothing’s ever going to separate us.”
“No… never…”
He kept pumping, long and purposeful thrusts. Even through the delirium of my continuous orgasm, I could feel his cock flinch inside me, ready to reward me with the achievement I’d hoped to claim for my own. But it was better shared.
“You want me to come, baby?”
I nodded, croaking out a “Yes!” that was half a word, half a sob.
“Alright baby, you want it? You got it, you got it all, baby, you got everything I got, everything I am, you sexy gorgeous creature. It’s all for you, all for you! Take it all, Sheryl!” He threw his hips around faster and harder, and the chaotic shifts and leans and holds triggered his eruption. I could feel that hot load racing through him, charging forward and finally spitting into me, deep and hot, filling me entirely. It swirled with my own juices, making my body a cauldron for a new and unique recipe to be replicated nowhere else in the Universe. My body was a vessel for a new thing, a combination of his life and mine. Our essences collided and combined and
percolated, a heady brew, the very stuff of life.
We leaned back, our bodies relaxing. Leaving himself planted deep inside me, he wrapped his arms around me from behind and gently kissed the back of my neck. I was exhausted but still humming, as if my orgasm hadn’t ended but was merely resting. I knew that it wouldn’t be long until it would dance again, our mutual voices rising in that timeless, discordant melody of lust and passion, glee and satisfaction.
Chapter 16
The next day I started to feel a little better about things. Being away from the city really helped. I wasn’t surrounded by John and Margaret Alister and all the complications that suddenly came along with working at Alister Fashions.
Langdon and I went to the local ski shop and he bought us new clothes and all the equipment we needed. Trying on all those lush and cozy winter clothes and boots made me feel less like a princess in a fairy tale and more like some adventurous spy suiting up for an alpine mission.
Once on the slopes, we took a few easy runs just to warm up. The sky was crystal clear, a deep and pale blue that lightened or darkened as the sun crept across it. The heat of the sun was only a meek contrast to the chill emanating from the snow and a sharp breeze on every side, but we were bundled up and equipped with everything we needed—especially each other. Dark goggles protected our eyes from the nearly blinding snow and glare. Clusters of pines and cedars stood thick on each side of the wide, ski-tracked slopes.
We took the ski lift to the top of a higher and steeper slope. I was a little nervous, and about more than just the slope. I’d never considered myself afraid of heights, but I also never liked sitting on the ski lift. It was too far down, a gaping chasm just beneath my dangling feet. I tried not to look down, not wanting to disappoint Langdon with an immature show of cowardice.