Dr. Single Dad: A Single Doctor and Virgin Romance

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Dr. Single Dad: A Single Doctor and Virgin Romance Page 70

by Dark Angel


  Grabbing my tits while he rocks his body against me, he lays his mouth on my neck and gently bites at my skin. I moan and close my eyes, a pleasant buzz crawling under my skin. Each thrust of his forces me to moan louder, and it doesn’t take long for my moans to turn in a violent scream. I feel my throat growing raw from the effort, but he keeps on fucking me with raw intensity.

  Even though I’m barely moving, there are beads of sweat forming on my forehead, a few stray hairs plastered to my flushed skin.

  “Oh, God, oh, God,” I repeat over and over again, the sound of his body hitting mine like a counterpoint to the sound of my voice. Adding to the melody, he suddenly slaps my ass. I feel the open palm of his hand hitting my flesh, and a sharp pain darts across my body to my brain. I scream, and he smacks me again, this time harder. “More!” I hiss through gritted teeth, and he obliges. His hands fall heavy on me, and even though I should be in pain, all that I feel is ecstasy.

  Coming from a dark corner of my mind, I hear a tenuous whisper: don’t forget what’s your real purpose that insidious voice seems to say. Don’t forget the reason why you’re here, it goes on and on, nagging me and trying to make me feel guilty. But I don’t care about reasons or purposes; right now, the only thing I care about is the massive cock buried inside my pussy.

  “Oh, fuck!” I cry out loud as he goes around my waist with one hand and presses down on my clit. He circles steadily, matching the pace of his thrusts, and I have no other option but to succumb to an avalanche of pleasure.

  Electricity burns its way through my muscles, making my whole body tense up as a nocked arrow. All that energy gathers under my skin, and just a heartbeat after that, it goes free. It’s as if I’m being hit by lighting while there’s a fire at my feet; all my nerve endings are busy, and I have to struggle to hold on to consciousness. Is there such a thing as too much pleasure? Before today, I never considered it, but now I think it might be possible.

  My whole body is spasming, and I already feel my knees growing weak; curling my fingers around the edge of the table, I hold on to it for dear life. My eyes are closed, my eyes are gritted, and this is how I brace the storm of ecstasy. I can’t even tell you if I’m moaning or screaming, or if I’m too spent for any of that. All that I know is that I’m adrift in an ocean of pleasure.

  Once I feel the waves of pleasure washing away, I finally realize that I have forgotten to breath. As Ethan slides his cock out of me, I take one deep breath and let the air rush to my lungs. Feeling completely exhausted, it takes a few breaths for me to summon the energy necessary to turn around. When I do it, I remain with my hands on the table, afraid of falling straight into the floor; my legs are still shaking, and I don’t trust them yet.

  There’s a gentle smile on Ethan’s face, but it quickly changes into a devilish grin. We’re not done yet.

  “On your knees,” he tells me, and just like I did before, I go down at once. Looking up at him, I reach for his cock and curl my fingers around his shaft, feeling my own fluids coating it. I start to stroke him as hard as I can, my hand flying over his thickness in a flurry of movement. I guess I still have a few reserves of energy inside of me, after all.

  “Come for me, Ethan… I want your cum all over me,” I beg him, my voice mellow and honeyed. I don’t think I have ever felt the urge to have a man covering me with his cum, but I can’t help it; kneeling in front of Ethan after he drove me to climax God knows how many times, it seems like the right thing to do. “I want you to cover me in cum…” I continue, and just like that, I feel a tenuous spasm against my fingers. Taking it as a good omen, I redouble my efforts and go as hard as humanly possible. There’s one hard spasm, and not even a fraction of a second after it, a rope of cum jumps from his cock and straight into my face. I only have the time to register the warmness of it, as more and more ropes of cum start to gush out of his member and into me.

  I hear him groan, but it’s almost as if his voice is coming at me from the other side of the universe. Right now, I’m not lost in this moment. I open my mouth as wide as I can, and sticking out my tongue, I let him rain down his seed upon me. It doesn't take long for my mouth to be brimming with cum; thick drops are already dripping down my chin and neck, and making a steady path toward my tits.

  With a grin on my lips, I look into Ethan’s eyes and I swallow. He grins back at me at once, but then closes his eyes as his cock continues to spasm. I feel his salty flavor going down my throat and a shiver goes up my spine, making my skin prickle. Somehow, I manage to keep my eyes open as thick strands of his juices fall across my face; after all, how could I miss the way his whole body tenses up as an intense orgasm completely crushes him? There’s nothing better than watching a perfect man drowning in pleasure… When you’re the cause of his pleasure, of course.

  As his spasms start to subside, I finally let go of his cock. Acting on impulse, I lean into him, and parting my lips, take his whole cock into my mouth at once. Then, slowly rolling my lips back over his shaft, I suck him dry. I linger on his glans, lapping at it with my tongue as I gently caress his balls with my outstretched fingers.

  “Fuck,” he mutters, and I’d bet that that’s the only thing he can say right now. And it’s the appropriate one too. Leaning back, I let his cock pop out of my mouth and run my tongue over my lips.

  “How do I look?” I asked him, grabbing my tits and rubbing them with the open palm of my hands. My fingers slide easily over my skin, the white cum that covers me helping, and so I smear it all over my naked chest.

  “Perfect,” he replies, extending one hand; I take it and let him pull me up to my feet. The moment I stand straight, he grabs me by the waist and presses his body against me, his lips finding their way to mine. We lose ourselves as we start to kiss, my cum coated lips eagerly devouring his; I push my tongue into his mouth and, with it goes the flavor of his own semen.

  I know, I know—this is supposed to be a job, not a way for me to have fun. But who cares? I would just beat myself up for the rest of my life if I didn’t take the chance to let myself be used by a man like this. Because that’s what happened. Ethan used me, and I loved every second of it.

  As I pull back from him, I look into his eyes once again, and there’s a sudden pang of regret in my heart. In his eyes I see happiness, and I hate the fact that I’ll be the one crushing it. But what options do I have? There’s no other way—if I don’t do this… I don’t even want to think of it. Whatever it takes, I have to do this.

  It’s just a job, I think to myself, and I can’t help but feel that the more I repeat these words... the more they sound like a lie.

  Ethan

  "I have some marketing ideas I'd like to run by you," Cheryl says. We're sitting in the conference room going over the product launch for Illicit Escape, the technology that we're banking on to revolutionize the porn industry—actually, the whole fucking world seems to be banking on it too.

  At least that's what we're supposed to be discussing, this product launch, but I can't fucking focus.

  Instead of thinking about how to launch this product, I'm thinking back to the restaurant—Top of the Rock—with Brittney. I'm thinking about her dress. Her perfect curves. Her smell. The way her blonde hair framed her face and caught the light just right.

  The way I commanded everyone to leave the dining room. The way the city stood tall in the background, a symbol of success and power. And how I felt like I had all of that power in the palm of my fucking hand.

  I'm thinking about the look that formed on her face the moment she realized we were alone. The way she screamed when I pressed my hand against her bare pussy. The way her fingers rested on my waistline in anticipation, her eyes pleading me to allow her to go further. And I'll never forget the way she grabbed my shirt, crazed with lust, and I watched as the buttons popped off and rolled to the floor. That was a first.

  I suddenly realize that if I'm not careful, my cock is going to start tenting my pants in the middle of this meeting. Not fucking ideal.<
br />
  "I was thinking we could build off of your press release pitch," Cheryl continues, oblivious to the images playing out in my mind. I nod my head in vague agreement. I'm only partially paying attention, and honestly, every time she starts talking, my mind changes tracks. Like I said, I can't fucking focus.

  "We could do a montage of cavemen scribbling porn on caves walls, and then show ancient civilizations scrawling it on stone tablets and papyrus," she says. "And we can continue down that evolutionary chain until we reach the early days of VHS and the Internet—and then we can have the screen pan into a modern-day man and woman. Maybe they're sitting in a park, or sitting at home, and no one knows, but they're actually, privately watching porn. It's not obscene. It's just normal. That's the revolution. The story always has to come back to the people."

  Cheryl takes a drink of water from a nearby glass and continues. "We can show how discreet this technology actually is—how it's the next evolution of porn. What do you think about that? Ethan? Ethan—hello, is there anybody home? Are you following me?" She says this and laughs, but deep down you can tell she doesn't think me drifting off is funny at all.

  "What? Oh—right—yes, I'm fine. I think that sounds like a great idea," I say, snapping back to the present. What was she just fucking offering again? I'm losing track. I'm literally fucking losing my mind.

  "Do you even know what I was talking about?" she asks.

  "Sure, porn, porn, and more porn," I laugh.

  "Are you okay?" she asks, her eyebrows knitting together in concern.

  If I'm honest, I rarely see that look on her face—and I've known Cheryl forever. Seriously. I better get my shit together. I've got to get my head screwed on straight... and quick.

  I don't know what the fuck has come over me. One minute I'm fine. I'm Ethan fucking Kane. The one man in this city that not a single woman can keep. And the next minute, I'm fawning over some woman. Sure, she's hot—but so are a fucking hundred other women throwing themselves at my feet. And what's more, I can't get this particular woman out of my fucking mind no matter how hard I try.

  I look over at Cheryl. "What's that supposed to mean?" I ask. "I'm fine. A little tired maybe, but fine."

  Do I sound convincing? I'm sure Cheryl can see right through it.

  "Ethan, I've known you for a long time, and I've never seen that look on your face before."

  "You're overreacting," I laugh, shrugging her off. "I'm sure you've seen many of my faces—all variations of the one you're seeing right here in this meeting. Continue with your marketing plans. I'm listening."

  "Okay, well, beyond this angle, I'm thinking that the bottom line is this—our focus should be on the people, our potential customers," she says. "To build buzz, I think we can turn this product launch into a full-scale event. We should also have our pre-orders set to go live soon. Do you know the official pre-order launch date? Ethan—are you listening?"

  "Yes, sorry," I reply. "What was your question again?"

  "No—you're definitely different today," she says, halting the marketing talk. "Where were you yesterday?"

  "I was here," I say.

  "No, you weren't. You left early… and I've never seen you leave work early."

  "Oh, I—uh—I had a meeting scheduled for the evening," I say.

  "With who?"

  "What is this, a game of 20 questions?" I ask. "You sound like a surrogate mother."

  Cheryl looks at me for a moment without saying another word. I can see her brain working overtime. I break the awkward silence.

  "Look, it doesn't matter who I was with… trust me. Let's move on." I say. "What matters is that we launch Illicit Escape successfully. We have millions of dollars riding on this."

  And then it's as if a circuit connects in her brain and she makes the link between what she's been searching for—like finding the correct piece in a jigsaw puzzle.

  "You were with her, weren't you?" she asks. Her eyes are burning holes into me and I know exactly whom she's referring to.

  "No—well, not completely," I say. "I mean I was, but it's not what you think."

  Cheryl gives me a critical glare.

  "Right, and you expect me to believe that?" she asks.

  "Believe whatever you want, but let's continue," I say, slightly annoyed. "If we don't get this product launched, we'll all be in trouble."

  Cheryl realizes that she isn't going to get anything further out of me, so she continues.

  "I've created an infographic that shows a breakdown of various demographics and who our target audience is. You'll see that while many of our clients are male, we do have a sizeable segment of female viewers," she says. "If you look right here, you can see what I'm referring to."

  I glance at the image on her screen, but my mind hasn't been following a word she's said, so it takes me a minute to locate what I should be looking at.

  "It's right here," Cheryl says, pointing down to the far left corner. There's a tinge of irritation in her voice.

  She continues, "I was also considering the fact that we have a large sponsorship pool that we can reach into as well. If we throw an event for this product launch, I could see various adult novelty stores interested in sponsorships. Who was that one sex toy manufacturer that we used to partner with? Ethan?"

  "Oh right, uh, let's see—who were they again?" I ask.

  "Never mind. I've just remembered," she says. "We worked with two companies—Naughty by Nature and Good Vibrations. Shall we send them a sponsorship proposal?"

  "Sure, whatever you think."

  "It's your call, Ethan. If we offer them a package, I can ask our marketing team to draw up the proposal. Do we want to offer three tiers of sponsorship?"

  "Look, I must be more tired than I thought because honestly, all of these ideas are jumbled together in my mind," I lie. I'm not tired, but it's true that I'm not focused. I only have one thing on my mind, and it's certainly not the product launch—or events—or sponsors.

  "I trust you, Cheryl. You know this business—and me—inside and out. You make the call, and pull the levers. We'll get everyone onboard with the plan and we'll roll it out. I have total confidence that this will be a product launch for the books. It'll be the best one in Illicit Entertainment history."

  "Okay, if that's how you feel, I'll make the call," she says. I can tell she's still giving me a sideways glance, but I shrug it off and gather my things. Just as I'm about to excuse myself from the room, she speaks up.

  Brittney is supposed to be shooting today," she says.

  "Oh yeah?" I ask, acting casual.

  "From what I can tell, it's an extensive scene. She should be in the building shortly."

  As soon as she says that, I know exactly where I'm heading.

  Brittney

  “Turn your body around a bit to the left so the camera gets your ass,” the photography director calls out from his chair and I angle my body on the bed a little bit so that my ass is pointing toward him.

  Jesus, I never thought I’d be back here again.

  I’m wearing nothing but a lace black thong, black stockings and a matching lace black bra. I’m on a bed with red silk sheets on all fours, trying to look sexy.

  I used to do this back in the day, when I was doing porn full time. Take teaser shots. For covers, promotional materials, trailers, you name it.

  Although back then, it wasn’t as high-tech as it is now. And Robert used to be there with me.

  The thought sends a shudder down my spine. I can’t believe Robert used to stand there and watch me as I wriggled my ass for the camera.

  Oh yeah, Robert, right? I told you earlier I’d tell you about him.

  He’s the guy that Simon is going to give my information to if—

  “Brittney, are you paying attention?” the photography director calls out and I snap my head toward him. “It seems like you’re not listening or trying. I’m sorry.”

  I sigh.

  It really shouldn't be this hard. All I’m supposed to do is
look sexy. That’s the whole point of this photo shoot.

  And I promise you, I’m trying. The whole thing is resting on me now that I’m picked to be the face of the I.E.

  I’m going to be starring in the first interactive virtual porn experience.

  It’s going to be different from the old days though.

  For one thing, I’m not actually having sex with anyone on camera. I’m not having sex at all to make this happen.

  I’m going to be pretending to have sex, so when the viewer puts on the glasses, they think that I’m the one who they’re fucking. It kind of ruins the mood if they see another cock in there.

  There’s some computer graphics involved, but a lot of it first involves capturing my pictures as I pretend that there’s a cock inside of me. Or that I’m blowing somebody.

  Even the cumshot is going to be done on the computer.

  Crazy, right?

  That way the viewer only has to specify using his eyes where he wants to cum, and the software will use a pre-made cum shot and target it there on my body.

  I’m one woman, doing a man-woman scene.

  The only problem is, we’re still stuck on the promotional trailers.

  I don’t know why. I just can’t feel as sexy right now.

  Maybe it’s the fact that there are so many people around me, seemingly interested more in their own tasks than on my nearly naked body.

  Maybe it's the fact that the last time I did this was with Robert, and that man makes me feel singularly unsexy.

  Or maybe it’s the fact that I’m here under false pretenses. That Ethan thinks I’m going to be the new face of his product.

  When I’m actually here to steal it from him and give it to Simon.

  I mean, sure, Man Chasers LLC was all about deceit. But I was there deceiving men who were too stupid to realize they shouldn’t be cheating on the woman that they pledged their lives to.

 

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