by Dark Angel
"Well," I say with a sigh. "I would hate for the water to get cold," I say, slowly lifting my head up. I pull my pussy off his cock slowly, a little whimper escaping my lips at the exit. "And you got this cum all over me I should probably wash off," I say, running a finger down my breasts at the shimmering cum he painted me with earlier.
"Let me wash you off," Magnus says. He grabs a washcloth, dipping it in the water and then rubbing soft circles over my skin, erasing the cum.
I feel so relaxed with his touch and with the warmth of the cloth comforting me. The world seems so much simpler in even the little moments with the one you love. I've never loved anyone as much or the way that I love Magnus. I look at his gorgeous body and think even if we're done fucking for the night, I am nowhere close to done touching him.
When he finishes my breasts and stomach, he dips down and gently runs the cloth over my pussy.
Danger zone! I hold my breath and wonder if Magnus is up to something more devious. He isn't though, and I'm so touched by the intimate gesture of him really washing me, even my most private and intimate places. It's one thing for him to fuck my pussy, but his hand over it to wash it feels so...intimate in a way I don't fully understand.
But I don't need to. Life is simpler with the one you love, remember?
So even those simple acts feel like gifts, because they are. They are future memories that you have forever. No one can take a memory from you, but a person can leave. So the one you're with forever, they are something to cherish beyond words because you have the memories and you have that ongoing love.
I take the washcloth from him and start to get it wet, looking at his body. Much as I want to look at his gorgeous face forever and stay in his arms, I know how good it would feel to wash his back—or him and me both. "Turn around and I'll wash your back," I say.
He pauses for a second. "I love you," he says quietly, and then turns around.
I start to wash his back and the words that hung in the air before he turned around come to him now. "No one has ever done anything like this for me before. You're the only person in my life that has taken care of me," Magnus says.
It makes my heart hurt for him. "We can take care of each other, forever," I say. And I mean forever.
The New York Daily Journal
We Apologize. Seriously, No Joke Here.
Gossip Central on Page Eight. From the Desk of Vicky Durner - All the gossip you never even knew you needed to know!
Good morning Gotham!
Let's hope that it's a better morning than the last couple of weeks.
The last 24 hours have seen the greatest shakeup in the New York political climate than anything. Ever.
But first.
An apology.
To both Magnus Davion, and to Penny Wright, the staff at Gossip Central and the greater New York Daily Journal organization would like to apologize to you.
What you were subjected to and the reasons you were subjected to it were inexcusable and vile. No one should ever be targeted by the press like you've been. It was a witch hunt at the end of the day and it was orchestrated from within this august institution.
It's safe to say that in this instance, both Ms. Wright and Mr. Davion were able to fight back. Together, they showed that they were stronger than the world that tried to tear them apart.
And they prevailed over a corrupt Mayor and an Editor-In-Chief who lost her principles a long time ago.
For that, we thank you.
Without your ability to fight back on this, the Mayor would not have resigned 24 hours after your joint press conference.
Without your courage, the Editor-In-Chief wouldn't have been removed from her role by the CEO of the New York Daily Journal. The District Attorney is currently investigating her and her ex-mayor accomplice. That's the last thing that my spies have told me.
There's always been a bias in the press. We try to control it, but in this instance, we did not. We fed it and let it run free.
And a young couple who were in love paid the price for too long.
Others may not have lasted as long as you did. Many others wouldn't have had the courage to stand up and declare that they had done nothing wrong. For them, we thank you as well.
Going forward, this paper will be conducting a thorough review of everything that is printed in these pages to ensure that something like this never, ever, happens again.
While we can only apologize as many times as needed publicly, we also acknowledge that we can never repay and repair the damage that has been caused to Magnus Davion and Penny Wright.
It's small compensation, but for whatever it's worth, we would like to note to readers that the Equinox Towers project will stay with Davion Development going forward.
And future city contracts will probably be easier.
Indeed, New Yorkers, we here at Gossip Central want to apologize to each and every single one of our readers for leading this witch hunt. It was beneath us and those that came on board with Rhoda Wright have left en masse.
The inmates no longer control the asylum.
The only thing we can wish upon this couple as they embark on their journey of love is that they never again find themselves in the papers.
May their life be quiet and peaceful, and may they never have to work with a mob of journalists pushing down the door to their privacy.
May they enjoy happiness and may you, my dear denizens of the city, enjoy yours.
Till next time, keep your ears open, New York. We're listening.
Penny
Epilogue
Felicità!
That’s happiness in Italian, and it pretty much describes the way I’ve been feeling for the past few months. It’s hard to believe, but it has been almost an year after everything that happened back in New York. Which is almost as saying it was centuries ago. Time really flies when you’re having fun.
Two months after Laurel’s impeachment, Magnus got down on one knee and slipped the biggest diamond ring I had ever seen in my finger. I don’t need to tell you how much I cried, do I? The most perfect man I had ever met, asking me to marry him? Yeah, I cried so much I thought I was going to dehydrate. And, with that, he also told me we’d be taking a vacation.
A year-long vacation.
That same night we grabbed his Learjet and, the following day, we touched down on the tarmac at Florence Airport, Italy. I had never been to Europe before, but Italy was my destination of choice when Magnus asked me where I wanted to go. I don’t know, there’s something about Italy that just adds to happy endings, don’t you think?
Magnus already had an old Aston Martin from the ‘60s waiting for us, and he slipped behind the wheel with one of the biggest grins I’d ever seen on his face. Boys and their toys, uh? I gotta say, though, I was pretty excited about it too - there’s nothing like cruising through narrow Italian streets in a car that looks like it came out of a James Bond movie set, its engine roaring loud while the wind whipped at my hair.
That first night in Europe we stayed in a villa in the outskirts of Florence, but we hopped all across Italy as my belly grew into a respectably sized bump. Milan, Turin, Rome - you name it, I’ve been there. We’ve also made a few detours to visit some other cities in Europe, from Berlin to Barcelona, but we mostly stuck with good ol’ Italy.
In fact, we’ve been in Italy for so long that I find myself calling it home. We even decided we’re going to wait for me to give birth here before we head back to the states. We timed it so that Magnus could be in New York just before the Equinox Tower construction begins. It’s been a few months since he clinched the deal, and it took all that time to straighten out all the required paperwork. But now he finally has the green light to start building the tower, and I can tell he’s aching to go back to work.
I feel the same too. Sure, one year of vacation sounds fine, but I have grown restless as well. I don’t want to be a leech and live on Magnus’ money, you know? Besides, I’ve always wanted to be a journalist, and that hasn�
�t changed. In fact, I’ve used the little Italian I’ve learned (maybe I should consider myself a fluent speaker by now) to write a few columns for some local newspapers. I guess Italy really sunk its hook in me, huh?
Even though we’re probably going back to the states in a few months, Magnus and I have already talked about buying a villa in Florence, a cozy and secluded place where we can raise our children. I love the hustle and bustle of New York City, sure, but it turns out I also have a penchant for a quiet country life.
The way we see it, we can split our time between New York and Florence without breaking a sweat. We just go where we want, when we want. Sure, a lot of that is going to depend on how busy Magnus is, but there’s always some leeway.
I stretch lazily in my chair, remembering every turn of the path that led to me being here right now with Magnus, and look up at the first glowing stars in the sky with a smile. There’s a slight breeze in the air but the night is a warm one, the fingers of summer already reaching for the green hills of Genoa.
I hear Magnus’ footsteps coming from inside our bedroom, and I turn back on my stretcher to see him walk toward the balcony. “Hey, babe,” Magnus whispers, leaning down and planting a kiss on my cheek. I look up at him, smiling, both my hands on my oversized belly.
“Hey there, handsome,” I whisper back, and he sits by my side. We’re sitting on the balcony of our room in a villa in the vicinity of Genoa, one of Italy's most important port cities. The sun has just set, but its orange glow still falls over the world like a curtain, and I can’t help but feel like I’m inside a living picture.
“How’s my boy?” Magnus asks me, slowly reaching for me and caressing my bump.
“Girl,” I correct him with a laugh, but he just shakes his head.
“Nah, it’s a boy. I can feel it,” he tells me, a smile on his lips.
We decided against knowing beforehand if it’s going to be a boy or a girl, but now we find ourselves betting on who’s right. I tease Magnus by telling him it’s going to be a girl but, deep down, I think he’s right - there’s a miniature Magnus growing inside of me.
“Did you know everything would turn out the way it did?” I find myself asking him, looking at him with a gentle smile. He smiles right back and, leaning toward me, brushes his lips softly against mine.
“I didn’t have the slightest clue,” he shrugs. “I just knew I wouldn’t leave your side, come hell or high water.” Without saying a word, I reach for his hand and squeeze it in mine; this time I’m the one leaning in toward me, planting a kiss on his lips.
“I love you so much,” I whisper, feeling the warm summer breeze caress my skin.
“So do I,” he replies, softly pushing me out of my stretcher and taking it for him. He pulls me into his lap then, and I swing my legs over his, my arms laced around his neck.
We sit there in silence, the steady chirping of crickets filling the atmosphere around us. Closing my eyes, I press my head against his chest and take a deep breath. Sometimes happiness is as easy as this - one smile, one kiss, one hug. And, with Magnus by my side, happiness has never been any easier.
If I had to describe my life with one word right now, I know exactly which one I’d use.
Felicità.
Girl For Rent
She says she’s only for rent.
She doesn’t realize that everything is for sale.
Her job is to please men for money.
She says that we can never be together.
That it’s taboo. Wrong. Forbidden.
But I can see the lust in her eyes.
How she wants her hands caressing my rugged face and ripped body.
She tries to hide it but she can't.
And I can't stop thinking about what I'll be doing to her.
Make her quiver with pleasure till she blacks out.
She has no idea the depths of my depravity.
But she’ll be finding out shortly.
Because why rent…when you can own?
Christina
I straighten my hair and take a look at myself in the mirror as I wait for David to meet me. I'm at the Cardinal Club right outside Stanford University and the place screams old money. Oak paneled walls and overstuffed leather chairs. The kind of place that they wouldn't allow women into fifty years ago, you know?
David's meeting me here because he suggested it would be the easiest. There's nowhere on campus for a stepmother to spend the night if she wants to visit her son.
Every place I seem to go to though seems to have Steven's shadow hanging over it.
Sorry, you have no idea who Steven is, do you?
Let me take a step back.
My name is Christina Worthington, and I'm the widow of Steven Worthington. The billionaire who brought natural gas as a viable energy source to America.
I say widow, because by now you realize who I'm talking about and how the newspapers discovered him. Having a heart attack in a cheap San Francisco hotel room with a male prostitute. The tabloids loved it and every day the New York Daily Journal kept coming up with headlines that made me cringe. I didn't leave the house for a week until I absolutely had to — and the only reason I absolutely had to was because of work.
Well, work, and this meeting with David.
The lawyer that drafted the paperwork sent it to me to deliver because as the widowof Steven, apparently I have to sign somewhere that I'm comfortable with the fact that I will receive no money upon his death.
That's right. Not only did he carry out an affair with me for God knows how many years, but he married me promising me that he would always take care of me. And he left me with nothing. It all goes to David. I don't know if the will was ever changed or if I was just never in it in the first place but I do know that it's the type of thing that the old me would have never realized to check.
You might laugh, but I was in love when I first met Steven. He was brash and worldly. I was just a young woman — with no experience in men. He swept me off my feet and by the time I came back down to earth, I was already a married woman realizing the horrible marriage I had gotten myself into.
"Hey Christina," I hear the familiar voice and I look over. I can't help but smile.
Even with all the cheating and complete lack of affection from Steven, I stayed with him. At first it was to try to be a good wife. But eventually, basically maybe three years ago, because I relished seeing David as he grew older.
I'm going to tell you right now that I don't feel embarrassed or ashamed for any of my actions or my desires.
David is everything that Steven wasn’t. He's tall. Broad shouldered. Rugged face. He played football in high school and he worked out while Steven let himself go. Seeing David next to the pool, laying out in the sun bronzing himself and seeing his 8-pack abs glisten, I realized there was a darker desire that kept me from leaving Steven.
I was attracted to his stepson.
I didn't feel bad.
I still don't.
David walks over to me. He eyes the package of papers that I'm holding.
"Is that it?" he asks.
I nod my head.
He sits down at my table, takes the papers, and pulls out a pen. This is billions of dollars we're talking about but David makes it seem like nothing.
"I want you to know that despite whatever my father ever did to you and however he made you feel, you'll always be taken care of. I'll make sure of it," he says as he signs. I can't believe the signing takes as little time as it does as he hands the papers to me to sign away my agreement that I'm not contesting the will.
"Thanks, but this death and revelation about...everything...was a real kick in the pants," I say with a wan smile. "I realized something."
"What's that?" David asks as I initial and sign. Just like that I've agreed that I'm done with Steven. I no longer have any claim to his money.
"I realized that I need to be able to stand on my own two feet," I say to him with a smile. "I need to be independent. I miss being free. When I
was desired by others."
David chuckles. I frown. Is he laughing at me?
I don't view him as a stepson at all when he's laughing.
God, I don't even view him as anything more than a man. Who can shoot me to paradise.
"What’s so funny?" I ask.
David looks at me.
"You were always desirable," he says looking into my eyes. "You just didn't seem to believe it."
I blush. I can't help it. This 21 year old man is telling me that I'm desirable? Would he want to fuck me? Oh, my. With his face in between my legs? Making me come?
It would be perfect revenge for the woman who was humiliated in all the newspapers around the world.
But I wouldn't want it for revenge.
"All those times by the pool," David says, drawing closer. "You wearing those bikinis."
My heart skips a beat and I can feel a pounding in my ears. I can't believe this.
So close after the death of my bastard husband.
This is almost too good to be true.
David leans over, realizing that he hasn't been slapped yet and says with bolder words.
"Seeing your ass as you walked around used to get my cock so fucking hard, Christina."
I gulp. I look up at him.
"Do you talk to all women with that mouth?" I ask him.
"No," he says with a smile. "But I'm going to lick your pussy with it."
I'm thankful that I have a room where I spent last night here. Because with trembling legs I get up and take his hand. And begin to walk to my room without another word.