by Tia Siren
Cam sucked in a sharp intake of breath. “Shit Katie, I’m gonna come,” he murmured as his ass clenched and his balls released his potion of love deep inside my exploding pussy.
I could feel the fire of passion welling up inside, and it was turning into a wild bushfire, my legs wobbled, and I gyrated my hips. And as Cam released himself into me I thrust my hips forward, and my clenched pussy sucked his seed of love from his loins.
“Cam, Cam, I’m going to come, fuck me,” I moaned as my belly quivered and fire washed throughout my body.
Cam's heaving body slumped as he rolled onto the bed, and I gasped for air as the power of my orgasm had taken my breath away. My heart raced and slowed to normal as I breathed deep and slow. I rolled toward Cam and wrapped my leg and my arm over his depleted body; he held my arm and placed one around my shoulder. He pulled me close to him and held me tight. He would protect me and keep me warm at night.
I rubbed my hand across his chest, and his belly and I sensed his body had shown a genuine extent of his lovemaking as had mine. We laid there together, and our bodies entwined as we had become a single unit, partners in crime.
The sensations of my orgasm slowly subsided, and my body had stopped quivering from the excitement and the stimulation. Cam had fully regained his composure, and his body again became like a coiled spring ready to spring at a moment’s notice.
I looked into his eyes, and I could see, all his demons and hang-ups had finally been washed away, and he had become fully happy with the situation he was in now. I too had matured, and again Cam had shown me what it felt like to be a real woman, and I now knew the old Katie had gone forever.
Our lovemaking had been the most satisfying yet, we had been able to let our true feelings be known, and our bodies had responded. I had finally given my all to Cam, and he had given his all to me. Our souls had merged, and we had become one. We laid on my bed and embraced the effects of our lovemaking, our relationship was now out in the open, and we were free, we were free to show and express our love, not just to each other, but to the world.
“Katie, trouble maker, tease, wild child and flirt, whatever traits you have, I accept them all, it is what makes you so unique, and I just have one thing to say to you,” Cam said.
“What is that?” I asked as I rolled over to look into his eyes.
“I’m so in love with you. Yes, and I would like you to move in with me, and then you can be with Emmy all the time. As far as the job… you really should take it. There’s nothing for you to hide from now,” he added.
“Well it is funny you should say all that, Cam Cox, the living legend, the breaker of virginity and savior of lost souls,” I said with a giggle
He laughed at me and pinched my ass hard.
“I will take the job, and I no longer care what people think, let them talk the talk, and I will walk the walk; being with you is all that matters,” I said.
“And?” Cam asked.
“I accept everything, and I’m so in love with you too.”
“I’m happy you want to move in with me,” Cam said.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’ll go down in history as the only one who tamed the mighty Cam Cox.”
We held each other in love, and our passion ignited again. We wanted a long engagement so that Emmy could enjoy the wedding too. We were happier than ever, and we tried to help Owen with his dating. He needed as much help as he could get.
There were lots of fun times. He loved dating lots of women. And Cam and I laughed about it. It was wonderful. Our life together was going to be what we made it. The friends, the good times, and the times with Emmy. Even the Admiral had started to date again! It was so good seeing him go out and do his hair. He did the hilarious comb-over thing, and I teased him when he got smitten for the ladies. I loved him more than ever. And now he was Emmy’s grandad too.
As for Cam and I, we could wake up in each other’s arms. That was what heaven was. To find that special someone that needed you. Just like I needed Cam. We could talk for hours and make love all night long (as long as he didn’t need to work the next day). I loved him, and he loved me.
But most importantly… we loved Emmy. She was our perfect little girl. And we made a pact to help her through the world. For as long as time would allow it!
***
END OF THE THIRD STORY
Hot Man Wanted – Sneak Peak
The backseat of my limo is about to get filthy.
Why else would a billionaire like me be on a dating site?
I lost a bet.
I’m supposed to go out – once – with a girl from the ‘real world.’
Someone I could never bring home to meet the parents.
So when I see the Hot Man Wanted ad, my d*ck pricks up immediately.
This might be a fun night after all.
Ashley Anderson has f*ck me eyes and a quirky smile.
She’s definitely not the kind of girl you take home to mom.
Perfect.
She’s looking for her first org@sm.
I’m going to f*ck her until her legs shake.
And then never see her again.
But once I’ve tasted her, I’m hooked.
How can I go back to my world without her?
Chapter 1
Mason
“You need to get out, Mase,” Winston said. “Loosen up. Get some strange. You know, live a little!”
The lavish wedding reception was in full swing around us, but for some reason, Winston felt like now was a good time to break my balls. It didn’t bother me. Winston had been my best friend for years, so I was used to his random criticisms about my life.
“I am out, Winston,” I said. “We’re here at a perfectly nice party in a tent bigger than most people’s homes, and we’ve got a great view of the L.A. skyline. Just have a drink and stop fucking with me already.”
Winston laughed. “I’m not fucking with you. I’m just trying to help. And this isn’t getting out, my man. You’re still surrounded by the wealthy elite.”
“You’re one of these wealthy, elite, too,” I reminded him.
He waved my comment away. “Not in spirit. I go out into the world and hang out with real people. You should try it. It’ll change your life.”
“I’m not trading my tailored suits for your ratty jeans just to go into town and slum it,” I said. “That’s not what I call living.”
“I’m not slumming it. I’m just doing research on how the others live.”
I loved Winston like a brother, but man was he an idiot. We came from billions of dollars’ worth of money, and he spent his time running around the streets of L.A. in a T-shirt and worn-out jeans, rubbing shoulders with people who gawked over others carrying more than fifty bucks in their pocket. It was insane.
“You’re too fucking uptight, Mase,” Winston said.
“Yes, you keep saying that, but repeating it isn’t going to help loosen me up.”
“You have your whole life mapped out already,” Winston said, “almost to the day.”
I snorted. “No, I don’t.”
Winston laughed. “How’s this? Later, you’re gonna take that hot little thing you brought to the wedding back to your hotel. You’ll probably fuck her, but you’ll leave her there and never talk to her again.”
I grinned. “Probably, but that’s not having my life mapped out. I just call that a fun evening.”
“Okay,” Winston said. “In about two weeks, you’ll jettison off to St. Barts, spend your winter in Aspen pretending to like skiing, but you’ll part ways around Christmastime to spend it in New York. But between Barts and skiing, you’ll travel to Milan to get some shopping done for the next chick you’ll have on your arm, because this nameless model you brought to this wedding will be long gone by then.”
My hand clenched around my scotch glass while Winston continued to rattle off my life. Sure, it was planned, and sure, I did some of the same things every year, but why the fuck did that matter?
/> My dick sank itself into countless beautiful women from all walks of life: models, heiresses, Hollywood up-and-coming sweethearts. I loved spoiling them, and then I loved burying myself between their legs when they wanted to show their gratitude for that spoiling.
“You’re predictable, Mase.”
“And you’re an asshole, Dub.”
I sipped my scotch and looked out at all the people gathered at this wedding reception. I pinpointed celebrities with movies coming out this year and politicians who’d just shown up in the news for fucking prostitutes in coke houses. I saw people with old money rolling their shoulders back and silently making predictions about how long the couple would stay together. I saw people with new money glittering in the evening sunset.
I could always tell when people came from old money versus new money. People with old money walked with sticks up their asses and had perpetual divots in their lips from the silver spoon constantly hanging out of them, and people from new money were hard to look at because all they did was glitter and shine from the new shit they’d bought on a whim.
Both were pathetic in my opinion, just for different reasons.
The newly-wedded couple looked happy, but their smiles didn’t quite match their eyes. That was the thing about wealthy families: They kept arranged marriages alive. Talk about having your whole life planned out.
My life would end up just like that of these two unhappy people. My dick throbbed for any tight piece of ass that came into my vision because, eventually, I’d be forced to settle down with someone my age who also had money just so we could keep that money between the families. No marrying someone beneath us so they could spend it all, and no staying single so we could destroy the family reputation.
I wondered if the bride knew her husband had been fucking her maid of honor just before he’d walked down the aisle today.
“So, how long do you think it’ll last?” Winston asked.
“Depends on how much of his money she gets to spend,” I murmured.
“You think there’s a prenup?”
“Jesus Christ, there better be,” I said.
“I wonder if he knows she was sucking old man Richardson’s cock in her bridal suite earlier,” Winston mused out loud.
“Wait,” I said, “the man who makes homemade ice cream all summer for the kids?”
“Yep. She was sucking his cream down just fine a couple hours before the wedding.”
“Oh, so it’s a match made in heaven,” I said, shaking my head.
“You think so?”
“Yeah. The groom was totally plowing the maid of honor a half hour before she walked down that aisle.”
“Oh, shit!” Winston said.
“They’ll be just fine,” I said. “Marriage is probably easier when neither spouse gives a shit about the other.”
I took a sip of my scotch and slowly turned my view toward the sun setting over the skyline. L.A. was beautiful when I didn’t have to deal with pathetic individuals. But everyone here was pathetic in their own way.
The bride and groom would live in a loveless marriage and spend way too much money covering up their unhappiness, all because neither of them could say ‘no’ to mommy and daddy dearests’ demands to marry within their high-society circles. The people wining and dining here at the reception plastered on their fake smiles while people whispered in the corners about whose mouth had been wrapped around whose cock. It was all such a fucking joke.
“You like them rolling green hills?” Winston asked.
I stared out over the scenery. It really was beautiful. Green hills rose and fell like giant waves frozen in time. They’d been here long before these jackasses teetering around on the dance floor, and they’d be here long after.
“Yeah…”
The lights of L.A. pierced a sky that was quickly dimming, and I couldn’t help but think that it would be nice to live out here. It was quiet, it was picturesque, and I could stay away from the drunk, dancing idiots who were starting to give me a headache.
“Those rolling hills are something,” Winston said. “Like those curves of that beautiful woman staring you down at the bar.”
“Is my date pissed or what?” I asked before I looked over at her.
“I’d be, too, if I wore that type of dress and didn’t have your hands on me,” Winston quipped.
“Oh, you want these hands on you, huh?” I smirked. I trotted toward him, batted my eyelashes, and slipped my arm around his waist as he tried to wiggle away.
“Dude!”
“Oh, Winston!” I said in a mocking voice. “Your dick is so big! Put it in me, please! Look at my dress, Winston! Do you like it?”
“Get off!” Winston exclaimed.
“You said you wanted it,” I said.
I brought my glass up to my lips before I turned my gaze back to the skyline. Nighttime was taking over, and the clomping of people on the dance floor was growing to a dull roar. Pretty soon I’d make up some excuse to grab my date and get out of here.
She wasn’t very interesting. I asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up, and she just giggled and pet my arm. I knew what she wanted: a fancy night out while hanging off the arm of a rich man and to feel, just once, like she was the center of someone’s world. She wanted me to buy her something that glittered on her neck so she could go back to her world and tell all her friends about how she’d had a tryst with a billionaire.
And I was willing to give her all of that as long as she gave me that pussy between her long, fluid legs.
“You’re really missing out, Mase,” Winston said.
“Not this again,” I murmured.
“No, really. You know how I know?”
“I’ll bite,” I said. “How do you know, omniscient Winston, that I’m missing out on my life?”
“Because your date is being hit on by a groomsman and you don’t give a single fuck about it.”
I panned my head around and saw what Winston was seeing. My date gripped the collar of one of the drunk groomsmen, and part of me wondered if he was about to puke on her. Yeah, he looked rich. After all, the groom’s party was all wearing Armani tuxedos. But the man she was clinging to was the groom’s best friend from college who owned a coffee shop in the Valley.
Didn’t make more than forty grand a year, I’d suspect.
“She’ll get a rude awakening in the morning,” I murmured.
But Winston was right. I didn’t care. If I was really having fun dating bimbos like her, I would probably care a little bit that someone else was trying to steal her away from me. But I just didn’t.
Eva St. Stevens walked by and flashed me a bright smile.
“Hey, Mason,” she said in a silky voice.
“Eva,” I acknowledged before I tip my glass to her.
“Now there’s a relationship you should be focusing on,” Winston said once she was out of earshot. “Why haven’t you taken Eva anywhere? You know it’s inevitable that the two of you will end up together.”
“You think my mother is already picking out wedding colors?” I asked.
“If I know Belinda like I think I do, she’s probably already planned how many children you’re going to have and what their names will be.”
“So let me get this straight,” I said. “I’m supposed to have a real life before coming back and doing what’s expected of me, right?”
I turned toward Winston, who was taking a long pull of his drink. He finally set his glass down on a tray moving by us and cleared his throat.
“A ‘real life’ doesn’t mean not doing what you’re told,” he said. “You and Eva would be good together, and you know it. She’d be really good at pumping out kids and spending all your money, and you’d be good at filling her with kids and giving her that money. Also, she doesn’t give a shit that you sleep with a new piece of ass every other week. That is true love.”
“Yeah, love for money,” I murmured.
“What I mean is you’re missing out on experiences. You
go to the same places and do the same things, and you even sleep with the same kind of women! Dude, change it up. Go tropical in the winter. Screw Barts. Find a fat girl and drill her into your mattress! Do something new for once!”
“Calm down, Sir Drinks-a-Lot. The alcohol’s clouding your hearing.”
“Yeah, you and Eva are expected to be together and pop out kids,” he said. “It just comes with the territory. We were born into a life where financial responsibility isn’t a thing, and in return, we follow orders so we don’t have to worry about where our lives will be going. Do you know how many of them worry about that on a daily basis?”
Winston was pointing out to the skyline, and I knew he meant everyone else who didn’t have the wealth our families did.
I smirked. “Find that out in your research?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. It plagues millions every single damn day, and it’s something you’ll never have to worry about.”
“Then why are you dick deep in the routine of my life, Winston?”
“Because routine doesn’t mean you have to stay comfortable,” he said.
“All right, I’ll bite,” I said. “So, all-knowing Dubyuh, what should I do to get out of my comfort zone?”
“We’ll start small,” Winston said. “If I can carry that tray of full champagne flutes across this crowded floor without spilling or tipping them over, you have to date a real woman. Not some model and not some rich bitch, but an actual, bona fide, regular woman.”
“And if you spill?” I asked.
“Then I’ll move back in with my parents, stop my research, and no longer talk about your sexual escapades with random people I meet.”
“You what?” I sputtered.
“Be right back!”
I watched in shock while Winston gallivanted over and picked up a tray of drinks. I found myself clutching my drink tighter in my hand than I should have been. Winston quickly darted in and out of the drunk and stumbling idiots on the dance floor, and my heart sank to my toes.
He really wasn’t going to fucking make it across that damn floor, was he? I mean, he was carrying twenty fucking glasses full of champagne—and he’d been drinking all day.