by Alexis Angel
On the left hand side, Brittney leans forward and the user starts having his ocular nerves stimulated in such a way that his brain feels that Brittney has placed her hands on his cock. He starts to relax and squirm on his seat on stage.
On the right hand side, Brittney pulls back, and puts on a sweater.
On the left hand side, the user and screen show Brittney begin to bring her head toward the user's crotch. “I love how big your cock is,” she purrs on camera. “So much bigger than your father's,” she says as she begins to lick it. The user is clearly hard and the Today USA camera crew zooms in the massive erection tenting the man’s trousers as he sits on stage.
On the right hand side, Brittney takes her phone and points it at the user and takes a picture. “I’m going to send this over to the National Database and register you as a fucking sex offender, you pervert!” she says on camera. “Don’t you know how bad pornography is for you?”
And that’s where on the right hand side of the screen, Brittney’s on-camera avatar starts altering. Her face morphs into that of a rat, with whiskers. Her skin starts to become scaly and green. Her eyes become slits. Roaches start coming out of her mouth.
In the audience people are visibly upset and shaking at what they’re seeing on one half of the giant 40-foot projection screen. People are visibly turning white.
On the other half, Brittney proceeds to start sucking and the user’s body spasms as he finds himself not caring about the crowd and starts stroking his cock through his pants on national television.
On the right hand side, Wicked Wear is starting to scare it's users as Brittney starts speaking with the voice of a demon, “Porn is bad,” she/he hisses. “I’m going to bite and eat your dick!”
Apparently this is even too much for the user who rips off his glasses and throws them on stage and stomps on them!
That picture—the user stomping on a Wicked Wear set of glasses is priceless. The split screen is frozen with a picture of a demon-rat-faced-snake-bodied Brittney looking out at the audience and the words ‘System Failure’ flashing on screen.
“Well!” the announcer adds, clearly stunned at what happened. “I think we know who the real winner in this matchup is. And which company to never, ever buy adult entertainment from again!”
A technician manages to unplug the 40-foot screen from both devices as they go dark. The Illicit Escape user is still rocking back and forth and spasming when they reach over to take the glasses off. At first, he’s upset but the announcer comes up to him.
“How would you rate it?” he asks.
The user is breathing heavily as the cameras zoom in. He’s at a loss for words. All I hear is him say, “So real…”
That’s when the cheers erupt from the audience at the ringing endorsement.
Brittney turns toward me.
“What’s going on?” she asks me, her eyes narrowing. “How did…what just…what’s going on?”
I love it.
“That,” I say to the screen and pause. “Is what happens when people try to fucking play Ethan Kane.”
Brittney
“That,” Ethan says, pointing to the screen and looking at me. “Is what happens when people try to fucking play Ethan Kane.”
Oh my God.
What is he talking about?
But Ethan doesn’t say anything else. He reaches over to the tablet on the coffee table and pushes some buttons and turns it toward me.
I get up, my knees on the couch supporting me.
I squint. It’s closed circuit television and it takes me a minute to realize…
Oh. My. God.
It’s Ethan’s office.
And that’s me. At his computer.
“Walter, his terminal looks similar to what we went through, but I’m going to need you to walk me through it,” I hear myself saying on the video.
I don’t know about you, hun, but I’m starting to get really worried every time I see myself on a screen. First it was whatever went on in Times Square. Taking a glance at the television, which is on mute right now; the crowds are chanting and celebrating and cheering and lining up to buy Illicit Escapes. Wicked Wear is most likely out of this market for a very, very long time.
It’s almost as if this whole thing were…
“Planned?” Ethan asks me, and I snap out of my reverie.
“That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?” he asks me with a smirk.
On his tablet, I look at myself furiously clicking at the keys and talking to Walter through my earpiece.
He knew!
He knew this whole time! And yet he kept me around. He knew I was betraying him as he made love to me. He knew my goal was to deceive him the entire time.
“Yeah, babe,” Ethan says to me. “That day I left the prototype on the table…I thought you’d take it to Simon,” he tells me.
“You played me?” I ask him, all my sorrow at deceiving him starting to melt away. “You’ve been fucking playing me the whole fucking time?!”
Yeah, I’m pissed. He’s been lying to me the entire time. While I’ve been falling in love with him and feeling sorry for deceiving him!
My hand raises up and I know where it’s going.
I’m going to slap that fucking smirk off his face right now.
And I would have too, if his hand hadn’t raised up and caught mine. With the strength of ten men, he pulls me closer.
“No, I don’t fucking think so, babe,” he says as he pulls me to him and I smell his cologne mixed in with his man smell and I realize that he’s won. “And yes, I fucking knew. But I had to make a decision as to what was best for you. And for us.”
He’s tamed me. The Man Chaser.
He pushes me against the back of the couch and presses himself on me. His mouth finds mine.
He’s rough, his hands running over my body, claiming what he’s won. What he owns.
That bastard!
I’m sorry. I can’t get over the fact that Ethan Kane knew this whole time.
That he let me make such a fool out of myself so he could have a laugh. Why would he do that?
This is all I can think about, but my body is already responding to his kisses, pressing up against him and kissing back as I find the nooks and crannies on his body and wiggle into them. My hand travels to his crotch and I can tell he’s already hard. A few good squeezes in, I let myself feel indignant again.
No!
I need to know one thing!
Pushing him off me slightly, I look at him.
“How long did you know?” I ask him. “And did you have to decide?”
Ethan is almost about to jump me again, but I see him think better of it and sigh.
“I knew you were somehow trying to steal the device from the moment you were in my office,” he tells me. “I didn’t know it was Simon till you told me. I knew it could potentially have been Simon, but I didn’t want to rule out maybe it was someone else. Maybe you were working for Arsen Hawke or someone else.”
I’m silent as he continues. “When you didn’t take the device and you actually brought it back, I began to think that you weren’t actually trying to steal on your own, but someone was either paying you or forcing you to do it,” he says and I nod. “Which is basically what you confirmed ten days ago.”
“And then?” I ask.
“I knew that eventually if you were being forced to do this, there might come a day where you’d have to fucking choose between yourself and us,” he tells me, his eyes deep and soulful and even through my anger, I can see full of love. He shrugs as he continues. “I didn’t want you to have to make that choice. So I made it for you. I prepared the Trojan Horse script that would stay hidden and only run upon command if needed. As it turns out, it saved us from each other.”
My head is spinning, babe.
I need to sit down.
To think of what’s going on.
How Ethan has just saved me from Simon. But I know you by now, and I know you’re wondering abou
t Simon. He doesn’t seem like the kind of person that takes kindly to being made a fool of. He’s definitely going to retaliate.
All of a sudden the anger is replaced by fear.
Am I going to have to run again?
“Once you mentioned Simon, I knew exactly how he’d try to coerce you,” Ethan tells me as he picks up his tablet and turns on the video call option. He looks at me and smirks. “You might be interested to know that Cheryl is in California right now.”
My heart leaps up into my throat and Ethan recognizes the look.
“Yeah, don’t worry,” he says. “It’s not that hard to figure out where you used to live in California and that your agent was Robert McIntyre.”
I don’t have a chance to explain or even question because that’s when Cheryl comes on the screen.
“Hey there, Cheryl,” Ethan says with a cheery voice. “What’s the status?”
“Robert McIntyre never got a chance to see Today USA,” Cheryl says into her phone, her expression blank. She glances at me and even across the country, I can tell she’s sizing me up. Seeing if I’m any threat to Ethan. “He’ll never catch the reruns of what happened either.”
Ethan nods. “Do I want to know why not?” he asks.
Cheryl doesn’t answer. She just shakes her head.
There’s a moment of silence.
I don’t even know what to say. Is Cheryl saying that he’s dead? Did she have something to do with this?
“Thank you so much,” Ethan says and without any further ado, pushes the END button.
He looks at me.
“You’re free,” he says.
“Ethan?” I ask, going closer to him. The prospect of being free of having to look over my shoulder is insane. “What happened to him?”
“Sometimes porn is still a dirty fucking business, babe,” Ethan tells me, his voice and face serious. “If we don’t ask questions, we never have to lie.”
It sends a small chill. The power that this man wields.
But it makes me feel safe. Because with everything Ethan knows, and with everything it turns out he can do, what he wants most in the world right now…is me.
“Free,” I say to him, smiling.
“Free,” he repeats, pulling me closer. “It’s time to fucking celebrate.”
I feel his mouth approaching mine and I’m about to give in to him. To surrender to this man who seems to have tamed me.
But not so fast!
Ethan Kane has played me very well. That’s for damn sure.
“Ethan, wait,” I tell him, pushing against his chest with one hand. “One second.”
He looks at me, puzzled.
“What’s wrong?” he asks gruffly. I can tell he’s ready. He needs to be inside of me. And that makes holding him off even sweeter.
I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’m finally free. I want to celebrate by having filthy, dirty, sex.
But I can’t let him win on every single front.
“I have something to tell you as well that you don’t know,” I say, keeping a serious face.
He looks at me, backing up on the sofa slightly. I relish the moment.
Ethan Kane thinks he’s all that, does he? Thinks he’s so smart for pulling off this coup? Playing me?
Watch me make him crumble.
“I’m pregnant, Ethan,” I say to him softly. And then with a smile, “We’re pregnant.”
It takes literally a minute for the words to go from his ears to reflect in his eyes and then his face.
He smiles brightly. Then the smile transforms into a grin and there’s no stopping him – his arms are wrapped around me and he’s holding me close.
He’s hugging me. He’s kissing me. He’s kissing my neck. My earlobes. My face. My ears.
His cock is pushing into me.
“That’s fucking fantastic!” he says, pulling back. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” he asks.
I look at him as he asks again, “Why keep it a secret?”
Really?
I roll my eyes and shrug, using his own words. “I had to make a decision as to what was best for you. And for us,” I say.
He looks at me for a moment, digesting those words. And then he breaks out into a smirk.
“Alright then,” he says. “It’s going to be fun keeping you in line from now on.”
“Right back at ya, hun,” I tell him as we kiss.
Before long, his arms are pulling off my shirt and I’m undressing him.
It’s time to live freely. With the man I love.
For the first day of the rest of our lives.
Well, I guess I can do that.
Brittney
I’m finally free. Free from Simon, free from the shadows of my past. And, better yet, I found love. And we’re having a baby!
When I came to New York, ready to start a new life, I never expected I would ever be this happy. But then Ethan happened.
An hour after we just annihilated each other with the truth and realized how much we mean to each other, we’re back in Times Square, as Ethan finishes up the press conference.
And no, it doesn’t look awkward with me standing there next to him. I’m the leading lady of the new virtual world we’re creating, remember?
“Over the next several months, we’ll be rolling out the product to the widest number of people,” Ethan says. “Illicit Entertainment won’t rest until an I.E. is in every home in America.”
The press shout questions to him, but Ethan waves them off.
“Today was a matchup that showed that hard work and perseverance still count for something. I had a vision, and I worked to bring it a reality. It’s now time for me to enjoy the fruits of my labor. Thank you very much.”
The press frantically try to get in a question, but Ethan’s statement has been made. He’s done.
“Let’s get out of here,” he says, grabbing my hand and leading the way. All around us, journalists are shouting a thousand questions and trying to get a reaction out of him, but he just ignores the chaos in the room. He won the war against Simon, but he’s not interested in gloating; right now, there’s something else on his mind. And on mine as well.
While the whole press is going insane with Simon’s failure and Ethan’s triumph, we sneak through the backdoor. Ethan already has a limo waiting for us, and smiling gallantly, he holds the door open for me.
“Where are we going?” I ask him as I get in.
“It’s just a short ride,” he tells me, sitting next to me. The driver revs the engine up, and soon enough, we’re cruising through NY’s traffic. I place my hand on top of his, and looking into his eyes, I feel happiness spreading its wings inside of me. I’m the luckiest woman on Earth.
“Thank you, Ethan,” I whisper, squeezing his fingers on mine. “For everything.”
“You don’t need to thank me. Not now, not ever. I love you, Brittney, and I’ll tear the whole world apart before I let anyone lay a finger on you.” His tone is a calm one, but he means what he’s saying. My heart melts, and as I lean in to kiss him, the limo parks right in front of the closest hotel, The Plaza.
We stroll inside arm-in-arm, and Ethan just walks by the registration desk; he probably already has the key to the suite inside his pocket. Which makes me think, when did he start planning all of this? Finishing off Simon, taking care of my ex… He probably already knew how things would end. And now I do too; I get the happy ending I deserve.
When we get inside the room, a suite overlooking Fifth Avenue, he doesn’t even give me enough time to appreciate my surroundings. He closes the door, and placing both his hands on my hips, he slams me against the door; his body is pressed against mine, and the moment I lock eyes with him, I feel my pussy growing wet.
“I love you so fucking much,” he tells me with a smile, leaning into me and brushing his lips against mine. Then, his smile turning into a grin, he takes one step back. Loosening his tie, he pulls it out and looks at me with mischief in his eyes. A shiver goes up my spine as
I feel his eyes roaming down my body, and I can’t help but look at his crotch. His cock is growing hard, pushing against the fabric of his pants, and I can barely wait to simply pull it out.
“You’re everything, Ethan,” I tell him, a wide smile on my face. I’ve made it through… And with him by my side. When everything seemed lost, there was a light at the end of the tunnel, and that light was Ethan. Whatever happens in the future, I know this: I’ll never stop loving this man. Never.
“Am I?” he asks with a mocking grin on his lips. Then, his expression turns serious. “I know, Brittney. But you’re my everything as well… And from now on, we are one.”
“One,” I repeat after him, the sound of it like honey on my throat. “Forever.”
Smiling, he pulls the tie around his neck, and instead of simply letting it fall on the floor, he brings it up to my face. He lays it across my eyes, tying it on the back of my neck, and darkness swallows me.
“For all eternity,” he says. With that, he leans into me and I feel his lips brushing against mine, his tongue sliding inside of my mouth and dancing around my own. Blind, I rest my fingers on his chest and feel my way to his collar; there, I start unbuttoning his shirt, baring his chest. While I undress him, he places his two hands on my hips and pushes me back until my knees meet the edge of the bed. He pushes me down and I fall on top of the mattress, untucking his shirt as I go down.
I feel the mattress shifting under his weight as he climbs on top of the bed, and then he’s on top of me, kissing me again. I push his shirt down his arms, and then run my fingertips up and down his back; I feel the ropes of muscles in his back, moving as he kisses me, and my heart starts to drum a wild song of lust and decadence.
“I want you,” I find myself saying, sliding my hand down his stomach and finding the way to his belt. Unbuckling it, I pull it out of its loops with a sudden movement and flatten the palm of my hand over his crotch; his thick cock pulses against my fingers immediately, straining against the fabric of his pants without enough strength to rip its way out. Without even thinking about what I’m doing, I lace his waist with my legs, and start to stroke him over his pants. My fingers are curled tight—perhaps too much—around his shaft, and I stroke him viciously.