by Dark Angel
Still, as the helicopter takes off and the mansion shrinks into a tiny pebble, I grab Parker’s hand and smile. I’m sweating, my hair plastered to my forehead, but I feel like the most beautiful woman on Earth right now. Why? It’s hard to put it into words, but the recipe is a simple one; just add the love of a perfect man, mix it with a baby, and voilà!
“Just breathe, Amy,” Parker tells me, and I can tell he has no idea what to do. And that’s probably why he went with that line guys use all the time in the movies. Just breathe, yeah, right; what the fuck does it look like I’m doing?
God, I really turned into a cranky wife, haven’t I?
Hours later, all the crankiness has vanished, and I’m back to being my old self. Except now my huge belly is gone. And I’m exhausted, completely drenched in sweat and wearing a hospital gown. But I’m cradling in my arms the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen.
Natalie, that’s what we decided to name her. And, yes, it’s a girl. And you can bet that she’s going to grow into a strong woman who won’t take any shit from anyone—just like her mom.
“Can I…?” Parker asks me in a low voice, almost as if he were too afraid to raise his voice.
“Here,” I whisper, carefully handing him Natalie. He extends his arms, holding her as if she was made of glass, and then pulls her into his chest. Looking down at her with a soft smile, he’s a far cry from the man who stood his ground while dozens of soldiers pointed their guns at him. Parker’s the bravest man I’ve ever met, but right now, he looks docile and completely in love with his daughter.
Of course, I bet that his fierce side will show up anytime someone decides to mess with Natalie. Yeah, her boyfriends are going to love him.
“I love you,” I say, smiling as I watch him hold our baby. The look on his face reminds me of all the reasons I’ve fallen in love with him, and trust me, they’re too many to count. All I know is that falling in love with Parker was the wisest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life.
And, if you’re wondering, that has nothing to do with the amazing sex we have every single day. Yes, even while I was pregnant; that required a bit of creativity, but it was fun nonetheless. What I mean is that, despite our bodies' burning need for each other, my relationship with him goes way beyond that. Okay, sure, amazing sex is one of the pillars in our relationship, but there are many others: trust, kindness, and fun. And, above all, love. Genuine love.
This last year has proved that, even though our relationship might live on the outskirts of what society deems to be moral and decent, we were made for each other. Life’s an open road right now, and the only thing I’m sure of is that I’m going to be by Parker’s side until the very end. Wherever that road may lead.
He has taken to his position as a Senator, and a few political strategists are already trying to peg him as a presidential candidate for the next elections. Which I think Parker will win if he decides to go for it. Can you imagine me as the First Lady? Yeah, neither can I.
But I try not to think about that stuff too much. The thing I’m most excited about for our future concerns the child Parker is cradling right now. I’m a mother now, and that feels like a heavy responsibility. After what I’ve lived through with my own mother, I’m hell bent on doing the best I can for my own daughter.
Not that she’ll have to worry about an evil grandmother. Mom went to jail roughly 6 months ago - abuse of power. She’ll be gone for a long time.
“What are you thinking about, momma Amy?” Parker asks me with a teasing smile, and my heart melts as I notice Natalie’s tiny fingers wrapped around his thumb.
“I’m thinking of how perfect life is,” I reply, and he just looks into my eyes with a loving expression on his face.
“It is,” he whispers, and then we fall silent, both of us looking down at the small human we’ve helped create. If that isn’t a miracle, I don’t know what is.
Sometimes life’s like that. If you believe hard enough, it might just surprise you with a miracle. My miracle came in the shape of a family.
My best advice? Believe a little. Love a lot. It might work out for you.
It did for me.
Time For Some Mona Coxa!
And now finally a copy of Vicky Vs. The Virgin Buyer by Mona Cox which is a funny take on the whole virgin auction thing.
Finally, a short story: The Handmaiden’s Fairy Tale, by Dark Angel!!
Our goal in this is simple.
To entertain you as long as we can to give you the best experience with the words that we hold so dear. Because while we may be in various corners of the world, the fact that we are sharing these brings us closer together we feel.
Thank you so much for reading!
xoxo
Alexis and Lana
Vivian Vs. The Virgin Buyer
Careful, Mr. Bad Boy. I may look sweet and cute. But this lil’ slip of a girl can bring the Devil to his knees…
I mean, sure, I like kitties! And I <3 wearing pink!
And sure…sex slave is an unconventional career choice!
But that doesn’t mean that I’m not going to go on vacation.
I may even take sick days. Or personal days if I have to get my nails done.
You’re just going to have to life with your kitten not being there for a little bit, okay?
I promise when I come back you can humiliate me extra hard as long as you don’t touch the nails because I just got a new girl who does awesome manicures.
Besides, it’ll give you time to cook dinner.
Because you gotta take care of your sex slave, right?
*** It’s the cute single girl versus the Big Bad Dom in this installment from Mona Cox. Guaranteed to be sweet, sexy, sassy, and fun. No cheating or cliffhangers. Happy Ending? Always, babe ***
Vivian
I get up onto my knees so I can get a better angle at Johnny’s dick. Oh, that’s better. It starts sliding down my throat just right and I start to really get into it. I mean, his dick is a little on the small side, but he’s making all the right noises and is thrusting up into my mouth as I go, so that’s a bonus, right?
With my left hand around his dick, pumping it, I move my right hand down to my skirt and push it up and out of the way. I close my eyes in bliss. Oh yeah, that’s real nice. I can feel my pussy juices all over my hand as I rub my clit harder. I’m pistoning up and down on Johnny’s dick, rubbing my clit so hard I can see stars, I’m almost there, almost—
Johnny pulls back, yanking me out of my blissful sexual state. I stop, staring up at him wide-eyed, my lips wrapped around him, waiting to hear what the fuck he is doing.
“Come on, get up,” Johnny says from his perch on the side of the bed, patting it in invitation. “I wanna fuck you hard like the bitch that you are and cum in your hot little pussy.”
Dammit. I was so close.
I pull my mouth off his dick with a pop. “Sorry, Johnny, that’s a no-go. I’m saving my virginity for when I’m in love with a guy.” And no offense to you, but you’re not going to be it. I didn’t say that part out loud, of course – there’s only so many blows to a guy’s ego that I should deliver in one evening – but that didn’t make it any less true.
I’d met Johnny earlier this evening at my favorite nightclub. He may not have a huge dick, but he does have some amazing dance moves. We’d laughed and flirted and he’d ground against me out on the floor, with the music pumping and the lights flashing and I’d thought hell, it might be fun to go back to his place for a little BJ action. But after we got here, I’ve been…less than overwhelmed, shall we say?
Unfortunately, I can tell that isn’t going to get better anytime soon.
“You’re…you’re a virgin??” Johnny gasps, his eyes round with horror. His dick begins to wilt in my hand, like a bouquet of dandelions left out in the hot sun for an hour. Within what seems like only seconds, he’s practically shriveled up inside himself. We’d need to do an operation to find his dick and pull it back out at this point.
/> “Yeah, a virgin,” I say defensively. “God, it’s not like it’s contagious or something.”
“Are you just a kid? I thought you were at least 18.” I can tell that he’s starting to get his panic on at the idea that he’s fucking someone underage, and I have to restrain myself from rolling my eyes so hard, they fall out of my head.
“I’m 21, for fuck’s sakes. I’ve graduated from NYU. I’m not underage. Do you need to see my ID?”
Except he’s already yanking his undies up – seriously, anyone who wears tighty-whities to a dance club, hoping to pick up a date and bring them home, deserves scorn and laughter, just saying – and is scrambling backwards away from me, heading for the middle of the bed like it’s his lifeboat in the middle of a raging storm.
Wow, he’s taking this “virginity is contagious” thing a little far.
I push myself to my feet and yank my skirt down. Shoving my feet into my shoes, I grab my purse and head for the door, not even bothering to say goodbye. I’m a virgin, not a leper, and I’ve had it with guys who act like their dick might fall off if they touch me. Is it really that bad to still be a virgin at age 21? Is it really that bad to want to save myself for someone I love? God…
I pull out my phone and text Diane on the elevator ride down to the ground floor. Where are you?
Truthfully, I just want to be anywhere but here. Anywhere at all. She could tell me that she was out grocery shopping and I’d probably ask her which grocery store.
Luckily for my sanity (I mean, who actually shops for groceries? And for that matter, who has time to cook?) she texts right back. At the Marquee. You should come join us.
Us…hmmm, I wonder who else she’s with. I start to feel my flagging spirits rise again. I am not a terrible human being for still being a virgin, no matter what the Johnnys of the world think. I want to go have some fun – let loose and enjoy myself.
I want to find someone who likes me for me.
I want to find someone who loves me.
No matter how impossible that dream seems right now.
Victor
I look out over the dance floor, watching the sway of the bodies under the pulsing, flashing lights, and stifle a yawn. Oh god – it’s always the same. Don’t people get bored with the same club scene, weekend after weekend? Don’t people want more out of life than this?
Except when I try to pay attention to what Dominic and Apollo are discussing – the futures market and whether it’s a good time to bet on grain prices rising – I can’t say that it’s any more enticing than going out and dancing to the same techno song on repeat for hours on end.
Okay, so maybe it isn’t the same exact song on repeat, but it might as well be. All of this music sounds the same to me. Thump, thump, thump, thump… Ugh.
I take another swig of my scotch and struggle to focus on Dominic’s words.
“I think that corn and oats are going to up this year because of the political climate here in the US, but rice is going to—”
And now they’ve lost me again. Seriously, who can give a flying fuck about the cost of oats? Are they being serious right now? Maybe they’re just trying to see how long I’ll pretend to listen to them before they bust up laughing and yell, “Psych!”
I study their faces intently and realize…nope, they’re dead serious. Oh my god, death. Death now.
And then it happens. No, I don’t die. I think my death at this very moment would lead to a pretty short book, don’t you think? No, something catches my eye and I look up from my drink and from my internal wrestle about how early is too early to just call it quits and go home, but then…her.
I have to be the least sappy, romantic, gushy guy I know. Especially since my closest friends, Apollo and Dominic, have both hooked up with two women who apparently make them Very Happy and thus Apollo and Dom feel the need to fawn, like schoolgirls, about the amazing sex and the sheer happiness and joy that comes from being around their girlfriends. I mean, I like sex as much as the next guy, but their over-the-top descriptions of being completed and whole because of it? Not exactly believable.
But watching the hottest girl I’ve ever seen work her way over towards my table, suddenly makes me sit up and notice. I’m not going to say that the heavens opened and the angels sang, but hot damn, if we’re going to call someone an angel, it would be this girl. Legs that go on for forever, a tiny waist, these perfect boobs that look like they’d just fit into the palm of my hand, and straight blonde hair that falls to her waist. I can’t tell her eye color from here and suddenly, that seems like the world’s biggest tragedy. Are they a brilliant green? A soft blue? A dark, chocolate brown? I have to know.
It’s only when she gets to the table and is smiling at the three of us that I realize that Ashley, Apollo’s fiancee, is with her. For a moment, I thought she’d headed straight for me because she felt the same pull towards me that I did towards her, but…
Well, I guess I’ll take what I can get. And the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen, standing at my table and waiting to be introduced to me? Yeah, I’ll take that.
“Hey you guys, this is my old friend Vivian,” Ashley says, and Sex-Goddess-Come-To-Earth Vivian pops her on the shoulder.
“Hey!” she protests with a laugh. “Who are you calling ‘old’? I’m pretty sure I’m younger than you.”
“Oh my god, that totally came out wrong!” Ashley says, laughing. “Let’s try this again. Vivian is Lisa’s younger sister and she also happens to be someone who I’ve been friends with for a long time. How was that?” she asks Vivian and they laugh together, Vivian’s cheerful laugh tinkling out of her like wind chimes in a gentle breeze.
Wind chimes?
Gentle breeze?
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Laughter is not a wind chime. There are no gentle breezes inside of the Marquee. But as Ashley introduces Vivian directly to me, I can’t contain my dick, which is currently straining to attention. I hope whoever put these pants together used some industrial strength thread on the zipper, ‘cause I’m sure pushing against those threads right now. That’s all I need – to bust the crotch of my pants open in front of a club full of people with the hardest hard-on I think I’ve ever had.
She puts her hand out to shake mine, and I reach out, grasping her hand in mine and oh fuck, the electricity bolts shooting up my arm right now? I feel like I’ve just touched a live wire, but in a good way.
Which is not a good thing. I don’t do this. I don’t do any of this. I don’t drool over hot young things and I don’t get a hard-on just by hearing someone laugh and I don’t, definitely don’t, think that someone is an angel come to earth just by spotting them across the dance floor.
Absolutely not that.
Vivian
When Ashley had dragged me across the dance floor to meet her fiancé, I had a hard time not rolling my eyes. Ashley seems to think he’s some cross between a sex god and Brad Pitt. No offense, but no guy is that awesome.
But when we get to their table, I can’t tear my eyes off this guy who’d been lounging back as we came walking up, looking bored as fuck, staring out over the crowd. He had looked like he’d rather get a root canal than sit there for one more minute.
As soon as our eyes met, though? He suddenly shot up in his chair and even from a distance, I could feel his eyes skimming my body hungrily. Ever heard of someone undressing you with their eyes? That’s exactly what this guy was doing. I felt my walk slow down just a little and the sway of my hips get a little more exaggerated, as we stared at each other. Please don’t let this be Apollo. Please don’t let this be Apollo. I mean, I could see why Ashley described him as a sex god come to earth, but on the other hand, I so didn’t want to be this attracted to a guy who was already in love with my friend.
Not to mention that there was a whole lot of hunger in his eyes, too. I definitely didn’t want my friend to be engaged to a guy who would mentally undress another woman at a club. That would just be so awful.
&nb
sp; We get to the table, though, and it turns out that Ashley is engaged to one of the other two guys at the table – this tall, dark-haired man who only seems to have eyes for Ashley. Which is good, ‘cause she’s over the moon about him. Frankly, I just don’t see it. I mean, he’s fine and all, but…
Whoa, momma. I covertly study the guy who Ashley had introduced as Victor from beneath my eyelashes. Fuck, he is handsome. Greek god handsome. Movie star handsome. Can’t breathe handsome. I can’t tell how tall he is ‘cause he’s sitting down, but his legs seem to stretch for forever out in front of him and his muscles – oh my god, his muscles. He just ripples with energy. His sandy blond hair brushes his collar – just the right length. Long enough to run my fingers through, but short enough that he doesn’t look feminine.
I can’t tell the eye color in the dim lighting of the club and I suddenly want, more than anything, to be able to know what color they are. His long eyelashes sweep down over them and I glance away. I can’t just stare at him like a lovesick puppy. How embarrassing would that be.
Lisa and Diane make it back to our table too, and tell us that they’ve ordered us another round of drinks – apparently, they’re doing tequila shots tonight. Sounds awesome to me. Never let it be said that I’ll turn down a tequila shot.
“How is the job hunt going, now that you’ve graduated from NYU?” Ashley asks, practically sitting on Apollo’s lap. He’s running his hands possessively over her body as she talks to me. Seriously puke inducing.
I try to give a happy smile in response to her question but…ugh. Most painful topic ever. Other than my virginity, of course, and how it seems to cause most men to sprint, not run, in the other direction.