Baby Batter: A Baby For The Billionaire Single Dad Romance

by Alexis Angel

  “Oh, fuck… This was…” He trails off, not finishing his sentence, and then slides his cock out of my ass. It pops out with a wet sound and, at the same time, I feel all of his semen streaming out of my ass. I look back at him over my shoulder, and the look of pure madness in his eyes makes me shudder; grinning, he then spreads my cheeks wide and leans into me with his mouth open wide.

  Crushing his mouth against my asshole, he then uses his tongue to lick it dry, sliding it inside of me and running it around in while circles. He scoops up all the cum that he offered me seconds ago and then, pulling back, he looks into my eyes again and just swallows.

  Exhaling sharply, he then throws himself back and collapses on the floor, laying flat on his back while his chest rises and falls fast. Turning around, I go to his side and lay down next to him; huddling against his body, one hand on his chest, I lean into him and press my lips against him, feeling the saltiness of his own cum in his lips.

  “I love you, Austin…”

  “Me too…”

  “And I want this… all of this… every day for the rest of my life. Can you keep up?” I tease him, softly kissing him again. His response is a deep laugh, one that tells me what his answer is going to be.

  “You should be asking that to yourself, babe,” he says, and I can’t help but laugh with him. I mean, it’s true – even though I want it every day (or, for that matter, every single hour of the day), I’m not sure if my body can take it. Is there such a thing as too much pleasure? And, more than that, is there such a thing as too much happiness?

  Looking into Austin’s eyes, the smile on his face a tender one, I realize I already know the answer to that question.

  No, it’s never too much.

  Washington Beat

  President Player Scores A Win!

  From the desk of Margie Preston – our fearless and fun political reporter

  The nation was glued to it’s television sets today as the House of Representatives overwhelmingly voted to begin criminal proceedings against the former Speaker of the House, Bob Walker.

  The former Speaker is charged with several felonies that include spying on a public official, attempted blackmail, espionage, and numerous violations of the USA PATRIOT Act. If convicted of all charges, the Speaker of the House could face up to 102 years in maximum security prison.

  The former Speaker is currently being held in a Washington D.C. jail and it was agreed by both branches of government that a member of the government could not effectively do their jobs while being incarcerated.

  “We think it’s best for the nation if Bob Walker were no longer the Speaker of the House,” the new Speaker stated in an interview. Mr. Walker has assembled a legal team to represent him against what will most likely be an onslaught of criminal proceedings but experts contend that based on the nature of the crimes, jail may be more preferable.

  “Let’s just say that somehow Mr. Walker is able to beat back the charges that he’s facing, this is the United States government you’re taking on. And this government is bringing over 150 separate charges against you for violating Federal laws. By the time you clear your name and get released from jail, you’re not going to have any money left after the legal fees. You’ll almost wish you could go back to prison.”

  The former Speaker has indeed been denied bail and will spend the remainder of the trial from behind bars.

  The President and his fiancée, Ms. Draper were out in Georgetown dress shopping when news of the indictments was released. The President had no comment other than to say that he was confident that the American justice system would do it’s work quickly and he was comfortable with whatever findings were released.

  “Let’s just be clear, Bob Walker threatened my fiancée with being a spy,” the President continued. “So if he gets out of jail, he better watch his back. I say he’s better off where he is right now. Safe from me.”

  The remainder of the President’s comments were then shushed by White House aides, his fiancée and other staff who did not want him to make a scene and enter into a situation that he was not a part of.

  So, ladies of Washington and America, I think while we had some hope that the most eligible bachelor in the world was back on the market, it’s probably fair to say that this time, he is well and truly gone. He’s never looked happier. She’s got a glow. And you know what? The country is on the right track. For the first time in a long time, people actually feel that things are headed in the right direction.

  It’s a great time to be an American. And here’s to another wonderful four years.

  Ashley

  There's nothing sweeter than the feeling of victory … going after something—especially something where the stakes are raised and you know you have to succeed. That's the kind of victory I'm talking about, and right now, I'm basking in the glow of that.

  Well, I take back the part about victory being the sweetest thing in the world. There is one thing sweeter—I'll admit that nothing tops Ashley.

  I'm sitting in the Oval Office with Tracy and Ashley, and Tracy's giving me the details of Bob Walker's sentencing for illegal wiretapping. I'm leaning into my leather chair, my arms folded behind my head and my feet resting on top of the desk.

  "Consider it an early wedding gift," Tracy smiles.

  "I still think you should've let me get married in Vegas, like I wanted to," I say.

  She playfully slaps the palm of her hand to her forehead. "Are you kidding me, Austin? A public proposal demands a public wedding. Vegas would never work."

  Ashley chimes in, "And you can't get any more public than proposing to me in from of the entire world during a televised press conference. And there's no way I'm getting married in Vegas! I don't even know why you think that's a good idea."

  She laughs and leans over, planting a quick, playful kiss on my lips.

  "Besides," Ashley continues, "with the economy on the upswing, people want a little glamour."

  "She has a point," Tracy says. "I have to say that I agree with Ashley."

  "Oh great—so now you're both ganging up on me?" I laugh. "Two against one. That doesn't feel very fair to me."

  "Just because you've gotten the country back on track in just 100 days," Ashley says, "Doesn't mean that we can go and plan a wedding that fast. These things take time, and lots of planning."

  "And why is that? Who says we can't move quickly?" I ask. "Everyone knows that there's nothing slow about Austin Bain."

  "Is that so?" Ashley says, a devilish smile spreading across her lips. Her smile alone makes my cock fucking hard. "And tell me, just how fast does Mr. Austin Bain move?" I watch as her eyes travel to my lap.

  "What do you say I show you just how fast I am?" I grin. I'd like nothing more than to lift up the tight skirt she's wearing and bend her right over this desk.

  Ashley walks over and sits in my lap, raking her fingers through my hair. Her touch sends an electric thrill down my spine.

  "We can arrange that," she purrs.

  I look down and notice that my zipper is somehow halfway unzipped, even though I haven't touched it, and I joke with her, "See? You're so hot, even my zipper is falling for you."

  I watch as Tracy gets up from her chair. I almost forgot that she was still in the room; I've been so magnetized by Ashley.

  "Okay, okay, I think that's my cue to leave," Tracy says, waving one hand through the air dismissively, as if she's trying to shoo us out of her line of sight like annoying little house flies. "I'll leave you two alone. But do me a favor and stay off the desk, will you? It's a historical relic."

  "I don't know what you're talking about," I smile. "Do you Ashley?"

  Ashley plays along with my game. "Nope. Can't say that I do. Now, why would we even want to be on this desk?"

  "Very funny you two," Tracy says, smiling. "Play innocent all you want, but I'm not falling for it. I'm not that gullible; I wasn't born yesterday."

  All three of us share a laugh at that.

  Then Tracy walks out
of the office, and as she leaves, we hear her lock the door behind her.

  As she closes the door, I realize that I really don't know what I'd do without Tracy. She's been such a huge part of my success. I make a mental reminder to myself that I need to get her something incredible as a thank you gift for everything she's done for me.

  And you want to know what the most important thing is?

  Without her, I wouldn't have Ashley in my life.

  It's her that I have to thank for that.

  "What are you thinking?" Ashley asks, wrapping her arms around my neck, and breaking through my thoughts.

  "I thought you always knew what I was thinking?" I reply.

  "Well, you're usually thinking about fucking me," she smiles. "So, I'll play the odds and guess that's exactly what's going through that head of yours."

  She rakes her hands through my hair again, and this time grabs a handful of hair and gives it a playful tug.

  I laugh, wrapping my arms around her waist. I then close the little remaining distance between us, and press my lips to hers. "I love you," I whisper, my mouth resting on her ear.

  "I love you more," she purrs, and then playfully adds for emphasis, "Mr. President."

  D.I.L.F.

  I’m definitely a Daddy You’d Love To…

  Wait.

  Don’t say it. Because once you say it, you won’t be able to stop thinking about it.

  You won’t be able to stop thinking about my soulful, bedroom eyes.

  You’ll get desperate to feel my ripped body with my 8 pack abs and defined chest pressed against you.

  And once you f*ck my foot long lust muscle…let’s just say that you’ll be mine.

  Forever.

  So when my enemies send a temptress my way to steer me off course, they gotta know how it’s gonna end.

  How after one night with me I’m gonna end up owning her - body and soul.

  You think I’ll go easy on her and let her win because she’s my stepdaughter?

  If anything, that just makes me harder.

  And trust me...if you like me when I'm calm like now, you’re gonna love me when I’m all hard inside of you, darlin’.

  Parker

  "How bad do you want this?" I ask the three women crowded around me. They're on their knees, purring, and pawing, and pulling on my fucking belt buckle.

  I sit back in the leather booth, both arms behind my head, and smile.

  This is the fucking life, isn't it?

  I'm enjoying an evening at Happy Endings exotic nightclub. The place isn't half bad—one of the better Midtown strip clubs.

  The brunette with the smoldering eyes—Vicki I think her stage name is?—is sliding my belt from its buckle with one hand and dragging her other hand up my thigh, slowly raking her red nails against the fabric.

  The other two women are jostling for a piece of the action too, and who the fuck wouldn't?

  Look at me—8-pack abs, a cock bigger than your imagination can handle, the chiseled physique of a Greek god, eyes bluer than a hot bolt of lightning. What else could you possibly want? If you were in this room right now, I guarantee you'd be staring at my cock, touching yourself, and …

  Oh, come on; don't give me that look. Don't be shy. You can stare; I don't fucking mind.

  It's not everyday that you're gonna see a cock like this one. Don't shake your head. You know it's true, Gorgeous.

  And don't you see how these three women are practically begging for a fucking taste of me?

  I hear the metallic trill of my zipper as both of the blondes pull it down. My cock is fucking harder than a tree trunk, and they both give a shriek as its full 12 inches pop out of my boxer briefs and slap them in the face.

  Vicki pushes her way in, opens her mouth, and eagerly wraps her lips around my cock. She pushes all 12 inches down her throat.

  Impressive, I think to myself.

  "Someone's hungry," I smile.

  She then pulls back, and I hear my cock pop out of her mouth with a single, wet sound. The other two women seize the opportunity and lean in, and they twirl their tongues around my tip. Then one woman grabs my cock, and the way her hand looks so small wrapped around it makes me even fucking harder, if you can believe that. She opens her mouth as wide as she can, and wraps her lips around my now throbbing cock. She presses it down against her tongue, moving slowly, allowing her lips to roll over my entire length, inch by fucking inch until it presses against the back of her throat. I throw my head back with the fucking perfection of it all.

  "Fuck, that's it," I groan, resting both of my hands on top of her head. I grab her hair in one fist and move my hips, guiding the motions of my cock in and out of her mouth. Vicki reaches in and tugs on my balls, rolling them between her capable, expert fingers.

  "Oh yeah, fuck that's good," I whisper. All three of them look up at me, and smile.

  If you can think of anything better than having these three women worshiping my manhood, let me know. Because right now? Nothing fucking beats it.

  Sure, I was married once, but all that woman just wanted was to weasel her way into the Governor's office.

  That was seven years ago.

  Big mistake.

  But I've moved on and I'm better for it.

  I learned a valuable lesson: always diversify. Translation: Multiple women are better than one.

  "I want a taste," the other blonde purrs, leaning in and eyeing me hungrily.

  "There's plenty to go around, ladies," I say, a grin growing on my lips.

  Sure, as mayor of New York City, I do my fair share of fucking ribbon-cutting ceremonies, I shake hands, and I smile at babies, and I've even made appearances at weddings, but let me just say that I'm known as Parker "Pleasure" Trask for a fucking reason.

  You know what I mean?

  All three women are moving fast now, each one taking turns on my cock and I decide to change things up. I stand up and bend Vicki over the huge, shiny black table. We're on the top floor of the club, overlooking the stages and poles, and I fucking smile. I love New York City.

  This is my city. The city of my fucking wealth.

  I look down at Vicki and lift her skirt up, slapping her ass. It's firm and I grab a handful of one ass cheek in my hand. I have enough money to bounce $100 bills off her ass all day long. I can make it fucking rain for hours.

  Don't believe me?

  I've made an excess of a billion dollars on Wall Street, first working for Carter Jeffries, and then doing some currency trades. I still have a currency trading operation, Trask Phillips—a fucking power broker on Wall Street.

  “I want you to fuck me hard," Vicki moans, looking back at me. I grin and grab her hips in one hand, and with the other, I yank her thong down.

  Then I lean down and whisper in her ear, "Oh, I'll do it … but be careful what you wish for."

  I push a finger inside of her pussy, sliding it in all the way.

  "You’re so fucking wet, and I love it," I grin.

  With a forceful thrust, I push my cock into Vicki and watch as she grips the table top with both of her hands. She's moaning and the two blondes get down on their knees behind me, dragging their hands up my thighs and grabbing my balls.

  Yes, being Mayor of this city is a hell of a lot of fucking fun.

  And I'm not just talking about fucking these women.

  I've cleaned this city up, after the Anders administration. Unemployment is at 2%.

  Crime is at all-time low.

  People are making more fucking money than they have in years.

  I fucking love seeing this city firing on all cylinders. And that's a direct result of my hard work.

  Courts, transportation, EMS, urban planning, IT, public facilities, infrastructure, speaking with lawyers on legal issues, zoning and land use, finances, libraries, and even parking lots—you fucking name it and I've had my hands in it. Impressive list, isn't it?

  And email—fuck let's not even talk about that. I spend hundreds of hours answering tens
of thousands of fucking emails, communicating with the public, with my staff, with governments, and utilities, and on, and on.

  You get the fucking picture.

  Are you wondering how one person could possibly handle all of that?

  Well, this job isn't for the weak-minded.

  It takes a lot of fucking guts and determination.

  And the bottom line is, I've changed the way the government interacts with people and their lives. And the city is thriving because of it.

  But what now? What's my next big move?

  A lot of high political jobs require that I have a fucking wife and kids.

  But as I look down at Vicki, and at the other two women, their perfect tits and asses, and eager, open mouths … well, let's just say I'm in no fucking hurry to get married.

  Been there, done that.

  I'll take the foursome any day.

  Vicki let's out a loud moan and I start working her pussy faster. I feel a growing desire coursing through my body and my movements become more erratic.

  There's an electric current traveling through every muscle fiber, and the energy of it all is mounting. I feel like I'm about to fucking explode.

  I pull my cock out of Vicki and all three women get on their knees. They grab my cock and stroke it for me, all three pairs of delicate hands moving in perfect unison.

  Fuck, this is too good to be true.

  But here I am.

  All three of them looking up at me, mouths open, tongues out eagerly awaiting a taste. Their smiles wild and wide.

  "Oh fuck," I groan, and then my cock is a geyser. It's twitching, and with every pulse, thick, hot ropes of cum are hitting all three women. It doesn't stop as they continue to milk me.

  Rope after rope of cum.