by Alexis Angel
I tailed him all the way from the Hollywood Hills where I was living with him to Malibu. He stopped at a house. He had the keys to the place and spent the entire day and night there. I know, because I watched him from my car.
As I sat there, I researched the address on my phone. And I found out so much about Robert McIntyre that I had never known before.
Turns out he was married. Wife and one kid.
He apparently also had another job at KPMG as an accountant. He was representing me and sending me to do porn to fund what I don't know, but whatever it was, my fees were paying for a double life for him.
I hadn’t put up with a man that had a 5-inch cock for this. I didn't put up with a man with violent tendencies that occasionally slapped me when he got angry for this. Fuck, I didn't put up with a man that pimped me out at porn sets for this.
I could have been a real model. I could have done so much.
I rang the doorbell that night and she answered. I can’t even remember her name but I remember her eyes widened when she saw me.
“You have to leave!” she whispered to me.
“Are you his wife?” I asked. She nodded to me and closed the door.
“You don’t want to confront him, babe,” she told me. “You need to go now!”
But I couldn't just go. I couldn’t just leave her there if she was afraid.
But she shook her head.
“I’ve been married to him since high school,” she told me. “And I know who you are. I know all of his women. He doesn't care to hide them anymore from me. He thinks he has me beaten down.”
If you want to think that I’m sort of slut or sub-human then you’re welcome to hun, but this woman was living with a true sub-human. His wife told me he had half a dozen girls working in porn at any given time. He’d use them until their shelf life expired. Then he’d move on.
“You need to leave and pretend you never came here!” his wife told me.
She went on to tell me that I wasn’t the first person to have discovered her house. There had been one other, a year ago. She had come knocking and had stormed the house during the day.
Robert had slapped her around a couple times, and then dragged her to his car.
When he came back, he hadn’t talked about her and pretended the whole thing had never happened.
“She never acted in porn after that. Just dropped off the face of the earth,” his wife told me. “I think he may have killed her, but I can’t go tell anyone because I have no proof.”
I still wanted to confront him. I could handle my own.
“Then he’ll kill me, so his secret never comes out,” she said.
And I saw desperation in her voice.
“I can take care of myself and my boy if you just leave,” she pleaded to me. “If you pretend that you never saw me. That you know nothing of this house.”
The look in her eyes I think is what convinced me to listen to her, you know?
I remember getting in the car and driving off.
But I didn’t go back home. I just kept driving. Left Los Angeles. Ended up in Vegas that night where I emptied our bank accounts the next morning, and moved all the money into a separate, new account.
I found a guy who changed my last name from White to Roman and made me an entirely new social security number and even gave me a 720 credit score.
Then I drove off.
I kept driving until I reached New York.
It was as far away from Robert as I could go.
And I started Man Chasers LLC. I don't know why I went out hunting for cheaters. Why the sole purpose of my job was to bring misery to men.
But it felt good. It felt damn good.
And now, either I go on the run again, or I sacrifice everything and everyone I’ve come to love to stay standing.
But I can’t just think about me.
I need to think about my baby. His baby.
No, it doesn’t sound right, does it?
I need to think about our baby.
And as soon as that comes into the picture, I know exactly what I need to do.
I know exactly why I can’t keep running anymore.
No.
It’s time to fight back. It’s time to show just how strong I can be.
The whole Brittney that runs away and is too weak—I left her in Los Angeles. The Brittney in New York City? She’s a bad fucking bitch.
But before I do anything, I need to tell Ethan.
The truth.
For real this time.
Ethan
“Ethan?” There’s a knock on the door, and then Brittney steps inside my office. She wasn’t supposed to be around this soon, and the expression on her face tells me that something’s up. And I have a feeling that I won’t fucking like that something.
“Hey, you okay?” I ask her, getting up from my chair and going around the desk. I place my hands on her hips and pull her into me, brushing my lips against hers. She kisses me back, but her whole body is tense. “What’s going on, babe?”
“I… I need to tell you something,” she starts, fear and anxiety in her voice.
“You know you can tell me anything, Brittney. I love you,” I tell her with a smile, tucking a lock of her hair over her ear. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“I know that Cheryl doesn’t trust me… Because she thinks I came here to steal your prototype,” she starts, her voice quivering.
“Hey, don’t worry about her… She’s very protective and—"
“She’s right. I came here to steal it,” she cuts in, pursing her lips and locking her eyes on me. There’s fear on her face, but there’s also determination. She’s telling me the truth, but why now? “And I was working for Simon.” That’s it; I just fucking lose it.
“Simon? You’ve been working for that fucking excuse of a man?” I let go of her and take one step back, having no idea on how to process what she’s telling me. Fucking Simon, of all fucking people. “How could you?”
“He… blackmailed me. I had to… I had to, Ethan. I had no other choice,” she continues to speak, tears welling up in her eyes. I’m torn between holding her in my arms and punching the fucking wall. Simon always tried to fuck me over, and it seems that this time he really got close to it. “He… Threatened he would tell my ex where I was and… I don’t know what he would do if he found out, I really don’t. I’m sorry, Ethan, I’m so sorry.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. This is bad; everything in this situation is fucking terrible.
“How far have the two of you gotten?” I ask her, almost unable to hide the rage in my voice. If I were face-to-face with that motherfucker, I would give him the beating of his fucking life. He tried to fuck with my company, and along with that, with the woman I love. This is a fucking declaration of war.
“He… He stills needs the code. Without that, he has nothing…”
I remain in silence, looking at her as I consider my options. There’s not a lot that I can do.
“Ethan… Please, say something…” she whispers, taking one step forward and placing her hands on my chest. “I don’t want to lose you,” she mutters, looking me in the eye. “I need you,” she continues, and I become acutely aware of the way her body is pressed against mine. Before I know it, my cock is hardening and pushing against my boxer briefs. As she presses her breasts against me, all of my fury and lust blend into one another and I just fucking lose it.
I push her against one of the mirrors on the wall, pinning her arms while my mouth goes straight for her neck. I’m fucking furious right now but, somehow, that makes me want her even more. I start to kiss her neck and then I press my mouth against hers, an animalist urge taking control of me. I need to fuck her, and I need it badly.
Her hands dart to my waist, and not losing any time, she unbuckles my belt and starts to unbutton my pants. Then, flattening the palm of her hand against my boxer briefs, she starts to rub my hard cock.
Anxious to be inside of her, I place one hand under her ass and force
her to lift her leg, hiking her dress up to her waist. I press my body against her, gritting my teeth as I feel my cock against her pussy. She tangles her fingers in my hair, and as we kiss madly, she starts to sway her hips from side to side, rubbing herself against my cock.
I don’t know why or how, but the fury and rage at what Brittney and Simon intended to do is turning into lust, and I can’t fucking stop. It overpowers me, shutting down my rational mind and leaving me in a frenzy.
“On your knees,” I tell her, pulling out from her kiss. Without saying a word, she goes down and hooks her fingers on my boxer briefs. She pulls on them, sending both boxers and pants down to my knees, and grabs my cock with one hand; with the other, she cups my balls and starts to massage them. I groan, closing my eyes for a moment, and she starts to stroke me at a frantic pace, my shaft throbbing against her fingers.
Exhaling sharply, I place my hands on her head and grab her hair by the root. With that, I pull her into me. She tilts her head to the side and smacks her lips against my shaft, running her tongue up and down my length. Going from my balls to the tip, she finally parts her lips and wraps them around my glans; moving slowly but firmly, she starts to go down, my shaft pushing its way between her lips. When I feel my glans against the back of her throat, I hold my position for a few seconds, and only then do I pull back.
Still grabbing her hair, I keep her head still and start to thrust, my shaft flying in and out of her mouth at a relentless pace. I fuck her mouth with abandonment, anger and rage hardening my movements and infusing them with a kind of furious desperation.
I’m going so hard that I almost come; I feel a dangerous pressure inside of me, and I have to clench my ass and hold my breath in order to take back control. Taking a deep breath, I pop my cock out of her mouth and pull her up to her feet; moving fast, I grab her by the hips and force her to turn around, slamming her against the mirror wall once again.
I don’t even bother with taking off her clothes; I simply run my hands up her legs, and after pushing the hemline of her dress up to her waist, I place one hand between her thighs and flick her thong to the side.
“Please, yes…” she moans, but I can barely hear. I’m fucking lost in an ocean of lust, and there’s only way to find myself. Yeah, you’re guessing right, it involves fucking.
I grab my cock with one hand and angle it down, placing it between her thighs and against her wet pussy. As my glans touches her folds, she lets out one loud moan, jutting her ass and trying to get me to thrust. And that’s what I do. I thrust as hard as I can, burying my shaft deep inside her pussy. She screams, slamming her forearms against the mirror, and I start to rock my hips.
I go fast and mercilessly, pounding her with my thick cock in such a way that I just know she won’t be able to sit for days without remembering it. And that’s exactly what I want.
Grabbing her by the hips, I make her jut her ass back, and then I go as fast as humanly possible. My thighs slap her ass cheeks over and over again, the sound of it making me even more fucking insane. Gritting my teeth as I move, I look over her shoulder and into the mirror; I can see her face, an expression of pain and pleasure there, making her even more fucking beautiful. Fuck, why did she have to be working with Simon? Why the fuck did all this have to happen?
Moving as if I’m in a trance, I take one hand around her waist and press my fingers against her clit. Rubbing her with fast tight circles, it doesn’t take long for her pussy to tighten around my shaft like a vice. She presses her forehead against the wall, and hissing through her gritted teeth, she comes.
“It feels so… good,” she pants, breathing hard as tenuous spasms make her muscles twitch. Once again, I keep my silence, not knowing what to say. Anger and lust replace any need for words.
With both my hands on her hips again, I turn her to me and crush my mouth against hers. We kiss as if we needed it more than air to survive, our tongues dancing around one another with wild frantic movements.
“More, I want more…” she moans, and I act on instinct, placing both my hands under her ass cheeks and pressing her against the wall mirror. I pick her up from the floor, and she laces her legs behind my back; once more, I flick her thong to the side and press my cock against her wetness. Groaning, I thrust and bury my cock inside of her pussy, sheathing to the hilt. I grit my teeth as she digs her fingers into my back, her legs locked around my waist.
Moving at a frenzied rhythm, I piston my cock into her with a fucking growl. I go as deep as I can, a scream leaving her lips each time my glans rubs against that inner sanctum hiding inside of her. Closing my eyes, I let my dark instincts take hold of me and I fuck her like I never did before. My movements are raw and harsh, and I can no longer hear her moans; I’m in a world of my own right now.
I feel her fingernails burying themselves in my back, over my shirt, and the sharp pain of it brings me back to reality. She’s moaning like she’s fucking possessed, and I can’t help but brush my lips against her ear.
“Come, just come,” I whisper, and a fraction of a second after, her pussy starts to spasm around my shaft. I don’t stop moving as she comes; instead, I go even harder, beads of sweat already pooling on my forehead. Each thrust of mine draws a quivering moan out of her lips, and she starts to claw at my back, throwing her head back and pressing it against the mirror.
“Oh, God, don’t stop,” she moans, and then her arms start moving erratically. Coming for the second time in a row, she allows a violent orgasm to ride the coattails of the one before. I thrust one last time, forcing my cock to go all the way in, and then hold my position there as she comes her fucking brains out.
When the last sparks of pleasure have faded away, she eases the pressure of her fingers on my back, and presses her forehead against my chest. Slowly, I pull my cock out from her pussy and she takes her legs from my back. As she touches the floor, she has to support herself against the mirror, her legs shaking as if they have become too weak to support her weight.
“Your mouth,” I find myself saying, my cock twitching and aching to feel her tongue once more. Obedient, she goes down on her knees, and curling her fingers around my shaft, dives into me at once. She bobs her head back and forth at a relentless pace, and I rest my hands on her head; this time, I let her dictate the rhythm.
“Fuck…” I whisper, more to myself than to her. Throwing my head back, I close my eyes and just savor the way her lips roll up and down my shaft. Fuck, she really knows how to use her perfect little mouth…
Still with her lips wrapped around my cock, she starts to move her hand up and down my shaft, and I feel on the verge of cumming. I tangle my fingers in her hair and stop her from moving; gritting my teeth, I exhale sharply and let a violent shiver go up my spine. At the time, my cock spasms and I feel the cum rushing through me and into her mouth.
I keep holding her while I come, filling her mouth with my seed. There are strands of cum already dripping down from her lips and onto her chin, but I don’t give a fuck; I keep cumming inside her mouth, even though it’s already brimming with my juices.
Once I’m done, I let go of her head, and moving slowly, start to slide my cock out of her mouth. When it finally pops out, she looks up at me and opens her mouth, showing me her full mouth like the bad girl she is. I grin at her, momentarily forgetting all about the fucking mess we’re in.
I place two fingers under her chin and make her close her mouth. “Swallow. All of it,” I command her, and obedient, she does it. Satisfaction rushes through me as I watch the muscles in her throat move, my cum going down through it. Her chin is glistening from the cum there, and a few drops are already making their way toward her neck and cleavage.
I reach for one of the drawers I keep in the corner and take a dry towel out. I take a deep breath, reminding myself of what I need to do now that the truth is out, and throw the towel at her. She starts to clean herself, going up to her feet, and then adjusts the hemline of her skirt. I watch her do all of it, my heart racing like a moth
erfucker.
Here she is, the most fucking beautiful woman on Earth, and she had to be working for the fucking enemy. Life can be a bitch when it wants, that’s for fucking sure. But it can’t be helped; it’s time for me to man the fuck up and make the right decisions.
I button up my pants and look at her, knowing exactly what I have to do. I go back to my desk, sit down in front of the computer and tap at the keyboard. Accessing the Illicit Escape code, I downloaded it onto a hard drive and then eject it. Holding it in my hands, I get back up and walk toward her.
“Take it. It’s the code,” I tell her, no emotion to my voice.
“But…” she stammers, her eyes widening in confusion. “No… I can’t… I won’t, Ethan.”
“You will,” I tell her harshly. “It’s the reason you came here in the first place, isn’t it?” I push the drive into her hands and she grabs it hesitantly. I notice that her hands are shaking, and my heart feels tight as fuck inside my chest. “Give it to him, and your problems will be solved.” Without saying one more word, I turn my back to her and sit at my desk again.
She stands there, looking at me with tears in her eyes, and fuck, I just want to fucking hold her tight, but I can’t. I fucking can’t.
“Ethan…” she starts, taking one step toward me. I look her in the eyes and she stops dead in her tracks, anxiety written all over her face.
“You can go now, Brittney. I have work to do,” I dismiss her coldly, as if I wasn’t talking to the woman I love. This is the hardest fucking thing I have ever done. “Go,” I repeat, ice in my eyes and in my voice.
She runs her tongue over lips, and slowly, turns her face away. She starts walking toward the door, and I feel like shit. This is the worst fucking day of my life, that much I can tell you.
“Brittney, one more thing…” She stops and looks back at me, hope gleaming in her eyes. I look back at her, unable to say a fucking thing. But I must do it. I fucking must.
“Yes…?” she asks me, clutching the hard drive against her chest.