by Alexis Angel
“I know,” he says with a devilish grin, his member throbbing hard against my fingers. Without taking my eyes off of his, I let my back slide down the wall and I go down to my knees. Instinct guiding the movements of my body, I start to lean into his cock, my eyelids drooping at the same time. I reach for his tip with my tongue and, the moment I finally touch it, there’s a pleasant buzz under my skin. I lean forward, parting my lips and allowing his glans inside of me; as it slides over my tongue, I have to open my mouth as wide as I can to accommodate its thickness. If having him in my mouth is this challenging… I can’t even begin to imagine how it will feel to have him inside of my pussy. I don’t even know if it’s physically possible! I mean, there has to be a limit for how massive of a cock a woman can take, right? Well, whatever, I’m going to find that out, sooner or later.
With his glans inside of my mouth, I run my tongue around it in wide, slow circles, and only then do I start to go deeper. Inch by slow inch, his gigantic shaft rolls down my tongue, filling my mouth in a way I didn’t even know was possible. I go so deep that the tip of his cock touches the back of my throat but, when I open my eyes, I realize that I still don’t have all of him inside of my mouth. I choose this moment to look up at him, my mouth straining to accommodate his thickness; the moment our eyes lock, I can see all the hunger dancing in his eyes.
“You have no idea how much I want to fuck you right now…” he tells me, placing both his hands on my head and tangling his fingers in my hair. Holding my head in place, he slides his cock out of my mouth, only stopping when his glans touches my lips; then, he goes back in all the way to the end. He keeps this pendulum motion for God knows how long, time dilating more and more with each time he thrusts. Finally, he pulls back and his cock pops out of my mouth with a loud wet sound.
“Ready for the main event?” he asks me, pulling me up to my feet and pressing me against the wall once more. Smiling lewdly, I simply nod, placing both my arms over his shoulders. Taking the hint, he presses his body against mine and, grabbing me under my ass, he pulls me up and into him. Reacting unconsciously, I cross my legs behind his lower back. Now holding me with only one hand, he takes the other one between my thighs and, grabbing the fabric of my thong, he pushes it to the side; closing in on me, he angles himself so that his glans is against my wet pussy.
“I want it… I want it now,” I groan, trying to sway my hips and force him to thrust.
“How bad do you want it?” he whispers, keeping his position while he rocks his hips with soft movements, brushing the tip of his cock up and down my folds.
“Bad. I want it bad.” That’s all that I can say as I start to thrust harder, desperate to feel his cock inside of me. His grin widens as he sees my desperation and, with a flicker of lust in his eyes, he finally thrusts.
I throw my head back against the tiled wall and grit my teeth, doing my best not to scream. His shaft slides inside of my pussy at a slow pace, my inner walls straining so hard to adjust to his thickness that I feel my insides burning up; it’s physically possible, after all. The thing is, I’m not so sure that, once we’re done, my pussy will ever be the same. But if that happens… Well, it’d have been totally worth it.
Mason goes all the way in, only stopping when all of his inches are nestled inside of my pussy. I dig my fingers into his back, my eyes still closed as my brain tries to comprehend the avalanche of sensations that are hitting me right now. That’s when Mason decides to start thrusting; rocking his hips back and forth, his cock slides in and out of me at a growing pace, flames of ecstasy circling my mind and threatening to consume it. This is almost too much. Almost.
“Harder,” I find myself saying, my voice sounding foreign to my ears. Mason starts going harder and harder, ravaging me with such intensity that I have to breathe as deep as I can in order to remain conscious. Sparks of pleasure spread from my pussy to the rest of my body, ecstasy flooding me and overpowering me. I've never felt anything quite like this… I mean, I love sex, but I never really understood how good sex could be. If Heaven exists, I doubt it’ll make you feel half as good as what I’m feeling right now.
“You’re so fucking tight, Becca…” he whispers into my ear, still thrusting so hard that my insides are boiling up. “I could get used to this… I really could.”
It’s funny how life works; one moment you’re sitting at a bar, the other Mason Kane is fucking your brains out. I never thought, not even in my wildest dreams that my night would end like this... But here I am, trying hard not to scream as Mason’s thick cock stretches me wide. I can’t help but wonder if this is just what it is, something for me to treasure and protect in a chest of memories, or the start of something new… Deep down, I hope it’s the latter. I really do.
Lucky for me, there’s no time (or brainpower) to dwell in what’s going to happen afterwards. Right now, the pleasure I’m feeling forces both the past and the future to the sidelines, and the present takes the spotlight.
“I think I’m… going to come... “ I manage to get out between hard breaths, every single muscle in my body tensing up as electricity pools inside of them.
“Cum, Becca… cum for me,” he whispers, and his words act on my body as if they were a spell; slight spasms take over my muscles and, as my fingernails dig into his back, my pussy tightens around his shaft like a vice. I feel a violent scream climbing up my throat but, moving fast, Mason places his hand on top of my mouth once more, muffling my scream.
My eyes are shut, and thunder and lightning have taken over my mind. There’s a storm inside of me, a storm of out-of-control ecstasy, and I can’t stop myself from screaming into Mason’s hand.
Even though I’m coming my brains out, Mason doesn’t stop thrusting. In fact, he goes even harder than before, his thighs slapping my ass so hard that, if anyone walks into the restroom anytime soon, there’s not going to be any doubt about what’s happening in one of the stalls.
Luckily, his cock starts to spasm harshly and, in a quick movement, Mason pulls it out. With his hands on my hips he forces me to turn around, and I don’t need further instructions; I go down to my knees and lean into him, parting my lips as I reach for his cock.
I curl my fingers around his shaft as I wrap my lips around it and, wasting no time, I start going up and down his cock. He places both his hands on my head, feeling the sway of my body, and finally succumbs to pleasure. A violent spasm takes over his cock and, in a heartbeat, he starts to gush his load into my mouth. His warm juices fill me up in no time, the saltiness of it coating my tongue and making my skin prickle. I keep on bobbing my head back and forth until my mouth is brimming with cum, and only then do I pull back, but still he keeps on cumming, thick strands of it hitting across my chest and covering my bare tits.
When the spasms finally die out, I peel my fingers off his cock and, looking into his eyes, I go up to my feet. Without saying a word, he leans into me and, using his tongue, scoops the few drops of cum that are dripping down from my lips onto my chin. He runs the tip of his tongue between my pursed lips and, then, taking his lips to my ear, whispers, “Swallow it all.” I obey without hesitation, his seed going down my throat in an instant.
“This was --”
“Amazing,” he completes, looking at me with a dazed smile on his lips.
“What happens now?” I ask him as I lean back against the wall, still trying to catch my breath. I know I shouldn’t be feeling like this, but I’m anxious for him to say that he wants to see me again. That he wants to tap my phone number into his cellphone’s keyboard, or maybe he'll agree to a date tomorrow… Right now, anything will work. Of course, that’s not what he says.
“Now? Now I have to go and meet another woman. She’s probably going to try to blackmail me with something and I’m mostly going to have to accept it. So, yeah, there’s that.” And, just like that, he crushes all my illusions.
I mean, what did he just say?
He recognizes my confusion.
“Why can’t you jus
t say no to whatever she asks?” I ask, puzzled. “I mean, you’re a powerful man.”
He smiles ruefully.
“You don’t say no to Lorna Lowell,” is all he says before he leaves.
I’m frozen.
What. the. Fuck.
That name has no significance to you maybe right now hun, but this shit just started to get real.
Hold onto your tits, babe. It’s gonna be rough whatever he’s in store for.
Because I know Lorna Lowell.
She’s my mom.
Mason
Yeah, listen. If you're narrowing your eyes at me right now, Gorgeous, and shaking your head at me, I don't really blame you.
I'm fucking hating myself right now.
I mean, if I had just met that blonde girl at the bar a few hours earlier—what was her name again? Becca?—then none of this would've fucking happened. Hell, I probably would've taken her back to my place and kept fucking the shit out of her.
I mean, did you fucking see her? Did you ever see a more perfect woman in your fucking life? Those fucking tits? I felt them. They were so fucking firm. So ripe. Pert. Springy. I just loved feeling them.
That ass? You just want to fucking grab it and squeeze those ass cheeks like dough. Just suck on those legs, kiss that neck, slap that ass, lick those nipples, and pull that luxurious hair.
Fuck, just thinking about that girl is enough to make me fucking hard again.
But that's the last thing I want to do right now. Is be hard.
Not when Lorna is sitting across from me.
Fucking bitch from hell is what she is. The way her perfectly tailored pantsuit is put together, she's giving me a strange look.
"Mason, are you alright?" she asks with a voice dripping with fakeness. "Are you still...excited to see me?"
Fucking Christ. I'm about as excited to see her as I am of contracting fucking syphilis.
But there's nothing I can really do in this moment.
I fucked up. I don't deny that. I let my cock do my thinking for me, and I came on the set of a television news interview.
Millions of people got home from work and turned on the TV to see the interview with the King of Wall Street and potentially gain some insight into their investments for their retirement. Instead, they saw my huge monster cock destroy the interviewer's pussy. As an extra piece of icing on the cake, they then saw me cum like a fucking racehorse. Not just in the air, or on the woman, or anything that remotely resembles decent sex acts. No, I fucking came right at them. On the fucking camera.
I downloaded the video after it went viral. By the time I'm done groaning, you can't really see any more. Just a wall of translucent white. It literally feels like someone just came on your eyes and you went fucking blind.
"Mason?" Lorna asks again, "What's going on?"
"Nothing," I reply back tersely.
She bristles at my brush off. Well, fuck her. She's been bristling her whole life at me.
You think I'm being unfair? You think she deserves a chance, or something?
Let me tell you a bit about this woman.
If people ever really do call me the King of Wall Street to themselves, then they probably call her the Bitch Who'll Fuck You Over.
Her claim to fame is that her father was wealthy. Jonathan Lowell was a famous Wall Street lawyer. He had one of the most respected law practices, managing a small law firm that had a better reputation than Sullivan & Cromwell and Quinn Price. His company was built around solid bedrock principles of trust and conservative advice.
The man loved his family. He had one daughter and a wife. But life didn't love him back. Some time ago, he lost his wife to cancer. So he devoted all his attention on his daughter. But instead of realizing how wonderful her father was, all that attention did was make her a vain, vile, spiteful, selfish cunt of a woman. Her father gave her the best schooling that his money could buy. She repaid him by running off and getting married to the son of his business rival.
He was able to make peace with that, but she divorced him a year later when he found out she was cheating on him.
I don't know the exact details of Lorna's life aside from that, but I do know that I respected her father. As a friend.
And it broke my fucking heart to see her cause her father to age so fast. He was worried about her, sure. But it was like she took a special liking to causing him trouble.
The worst came when she got together with a few of his partners and they bought out his practice. It's a practice called a leveraged buyout. With Jonathan's company, the partners took over, and forced Jonathan out. They paid him maybe $10 million dollars—a fucking pittance when held against the fact that he started and kept that company together his entire life.
Then, with Jonathan Lowell forced out, the ethics at his law firm just went out the window. It wasn't about respect anymore. It was about making a fast buck. They started taking on more than just securities litigation. They started defending drug pushers and hit men.
Lorna wasn't a lawyer; at heart she was a fucking shark.
Her father, who had three loves of his life—his wife, his company, and his daughter—now saw that his wife had passed away, his company was taken from him and dragged through the mud, and his daughter had betrayed him.
He died the next year. I remember he passed away a sad and lonely old man.
And so when Kane Price went public several years ago Lorna personally used her monies that she made off her father's company and took a large stake in my bank.
She got a large enough seat that according to the Kane Price company bylaws, I had to give her a fucking seat on my Board of Directors.
And that's when she started going from a pain in the ass to a fucking menace.
I'm fucking 37 years old. I took my company public at the age of 34. I never thought that the culmination of my greatest achievement would mean having to deal with a conniving bitch like Lorna.
"You need my support at this moment, Mason," she says to me now, crossing and uncrossing her legs as she sits across from me in my office. "You can't afford to keep me at arm's length."
Fuck her. When she uncrosses her legs, its not sexy. It's just fucking gross. Like I want to fucking throw up. All over her.
Bitch would probably be turned on by it though.
"I can't believe that you're here offering your help to me right now," I tell her, eyeing her offer.
On paper, it's not a bad deal. Lorna comes on board in a new role as Chief Counsel to the CEO and advises on all investment matters. But she also invests several hundred million of her own money into new products that we're launching. The presence of some outside capital then goes along and stabilizes the fucking shareholders because they start thinking that the company is now being run and managed by people who don't go around waving their dick around on camera.
The Board of Directors is made comfortable because they can rest easy that Lorna will keep me in check. And clients see a safer company to park their cash and they invest in our products and we all make lots of money.
It's all about inspiring confidence that we know what the fuck we're doing. Confidence from shareholders, the clients, and the employees. Even if we have no fucking clue which way to go, we always have to project that air of confidence. That's the number one rule of Wall Street, Gorgeous. When in doubt, never say you need help or ask for fucking directions. On Wall Street, it makes you less of a fucking man.
"So you get the higher profile and your face in the newspapers out of this deal?" I ask Lorna, eyeing her reaction. "In private I don't have to fucking look at you, right?"
She's holding her emotions in pretty good check, because she doesn't flinch at my obvious hatred.
"Well, I'll have a higher profile, dear, that's for sure," she says. "But I think you'll probably have to see me quite a bit more."
"You can do this role by simply emailing me and talking on the phone, you know," I tell her. "It's just for show basically. You're not really going to be setting any p
olicy at this company."
Don't tell me to calm the fuck down, okay?
You're going to say no need to create all this anger on both sides. Just give her what she wants, take her money, and be done with it, right?
But no, Gorgeous.
I want you to understand just one thing.
There is no way in hell I'm letting my company go the way of what she did to her father's company.
None.
"If you really want to have a say as to whether or not I set any policy here, Mason, then you'll do what I say," Lorna says and I see her fangs come out. "Because otherwise I'll go to the Board and tell them that when I tried to help with this proposal you shot me down. Maybe even made a pass at me. And then you'll really be unfit to lead."
I just stare at her. I'm not fucking surprised at this.
"Fine," I tell her. "You fucking win. We'll do it your way."
Lorna smiles. "There's one last condition that isn't on the contractual paperwork yet, dear," she tells me and I see her eyes twinkle evilly as I look at her.
"What's that?" I ask, wondering if this is what it was all leading up to.
"Sure, my profile will be high enough to get appointed to the Chief Counsel position," she says to me. "But I want just one more title in addition to that."
"What title do you want?" I ask her, rolling my eyes. "Last I checked, Wall Street banks didn't have a title for Chief Bitch Officer."
Lorna smiles at me sweetly and gets up off her chair, walking toward me. "No, silly, that's not the title I want," she says as she walks around my desk to stand inches in front of me. "I want my other title to be Mrs. Mason Kane."
Holy fucking shit.
She can't be serious.
But her eyes tell me she's deadly fucking serious.
"That's right Mason," she says to me. "In order for me to rescue you out of your latest trouble, I'm going to have to be your wife."
Fuck my life.
Actually, Lorna is already doing that. She's fucking me up the ass with a barbed wire dildo.