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“Tell that to Tony. He couldn’t be more pleased with the news. He thinks I should wait until my career’s over in my 30s, but I’m not waiting that long. I’m already 22, and who’s to say what’s going to happen next?” she asked, rhetorically, as she rolled her eyes. She sipped back the champagne, clearly taking more joy in it than I was.
“So, fuck him.”
I didn’t know what to say to that exactly, not at first, so I drank more of the champagne and looked her over.
“You’re thinking of leaving him then?” I asked lowly, my voice steady. “If your two views on life don’t mesh up on such a big issue as having kids, then… that’ll be a rough one to make work.” Which was true enough, and I didn’t want to question her judgment. I knew that wouldn’t go over well with her.
“I don’t know,” she said, her eye twitching for a moment before she tipped back the rest of her drink, settling the empty glass on the table and reaching over to me, gripping my nice sweater in her fist as she looked at me. “But I know you’re going to fuck me, bare, and you’re going to leave me dripping in your seed, and I’m going to make him clean me up in the morning.”
Her sudden shift took me by surprise. I knew many of the models could be downright domineering, but this? I wasn’t expecting it at all. I reached over to lay down my drink and looked at her in shock.
However, I’d be a fucking liar if I said I wasn’t turned on by it. By her. And the opportunity to knock up a model.
“Are… are you sure?” was all I managed to stammer out then at that point, but my eyes couldn’t help but roam down over her svelte form.
“I’m sure,” she said, with not as much bite as she had before, but lacking none of her sincerity, that wicked little smile of hers growing wider. “I’ve never been more certain of anything.”
Maybe it was the lack of sex in my own life for so long, or maybe it was the urge to just have such a ravishing beauty. Or maybe yet, it was the fact that her saucy attitude made me want to take her. Have her. Make her scream and bend to me, as payment for how she and all the other models had treated me.
Whatever the reason, I pulled my sweater off over my head, and flung it to the floor, letting my bare, somewhat hairy chest show. I was packed with muscle, hard bodied and manly, not like the pretty boys most of her model friends knew. I wanted to see her reaction to a real man.
But her shock was perfect. It opened her pretty eyes, made her mouth into an ‘o’ that I just wanted to press my cock into. But it quickly faded to a more hooded and devious smile as she licked her lips with a purr.
“Well, hello,” she said as she brought her hand back to my rock hard chest, her fingers lost in the forest of my hair, tugging on it just a little.
I let her have her way for a while, allowing her slender fingers to rake through my thick forest of hair.
Scratch over that hard muscle, feel it all so intimately, and know what a real man was like. But then my patience ran out. I reached out and grasped her hips in my two powerful hands, and turned her towards me.
Her mouth parted, about to object, but I reached down, undid my belt, my trousers, and I made the crass look upon her face fade as I peeled down my pants, and unveiled the massive bulge of my cock through those black cotton boxer-briefs.
There certainly wasn’t as much buildup as I’d expected of the princess. I thought that she’d required a bit of convincing, maybe even changed her mind, but she wasn’t lying. She was absolutely certain that she wanted to fuck me, raw and without holding anything back.
It was an intense stare she gave that throbbing piece of meat in my boxers, and I swore, she was close to drooling over it.
I reached down again, sliding my rough, worker’s hands up her outer thighs toward her hips. I rolled her dress up, exposing her panties beneath, looking her over upon my sofa before I spoke. My voice came out gruff and hard, a real commanding tone.
“How’s that, huh? Bigger’n your limp dicked, sterile boyfriend’s?” I taunted her. Tested her. Was she serious about doing this? Part of me didn’t think so, and wanted to push her to back out once the realization of what she was doing kicked in. Be a responsible man. Taking a shot at someone’s lover had a way of reminding them of how they really felt.
And even though she looked borderline disgusted, I saw some glimmer in her eyes, and she wouldn’t take her gaze off my package. She didn’t even seem to mind the fact that I could see her underthings, though as a woman who made a living walking down a runway in them, having one guy see her like that mustn't have been a big thing.
“Yea,” she admitted, breathless as she licked over her lips. “Yea, it is.”
“C’mon,” I said to her, my voice gravelly and hard. “Take it out. Get a feel for the thick fuckstick that’s gonna breed you,” and I was being crass. Vulgar. If she wanted this, she was gonna have to put up with some rough shit. I wasn’t gonna sugarcoat it for her.
You don’t take it on yourself to abandon your significant other with me if you aren’t serious. I don’t take that sorta thing lightly.
She reached forward, that delicate little hand fluttering like a bird in flight, uncertain for a moment against the wind before she reached out, grabbing me through the fabric and giving a rub, testing me out before her hand moved up. Fingertips breached the top of my boxers, and she delved into the heat, grabbing my tool and unleashing it to the air.
Her eyes widened and she let out a gasp of delight as she dragged her hand down, looking at my cock and all its meaty glory with a lustful look.
I was a big guy in general, tall, built. But my cock? Yeah, that was the pride and joy of my physical self. It was a monster. A big thick shaft, with a bulbous crown, all well shaped though, like it was cut from stone, my ex-wife said. Too big for some women, and with those heavy nuts swinging below, I packed a hefty wallop of seed. I knocked up my ex-wife without even trying once, and the first time we actually tried she was pregnant that week.
“Like that, huh?” I said, licking my lips as she felt those dainty fingers over my beefy shaft, feeling the jutting veins. “If a kid’s what you want, I’ll knock you the fuck up with this beast in no time, beautiful.”
She liked my compliment. That wasn’t like a lot of women, especially a model, and especially one so drop dead gorgeous. She was the type of girl that had to be used to hearing she was beautiful on a constant basis, but oh, she was thrilled at me calling her beautiful.
It was almost funny. Thinking of her being the lucky one, when I was living every guy’s dream.
