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Lacy does it. She pulses up and down, letting out louder and louder moans until I’m about to come again just watching her pleasure.
“Oh baby, Oh, Howie! Howie!” She lets out a giant gush of cum and my whole crotch is drenched. I hold her back gently with my massive hands and spurt my seed deep inside her while she reels from her orgasm.
“That’s it baby, that’s it, take my come.” I hardly make a sound as I come for the second time. I just give it to my princess. She deserves my all.
But still, we have a trip to Italy planned, so reluctantly, I disengage, pulling my dong from her sweet folds.
“You ready?” I murmur, caressing her with my eyes. “The plane leaves in two hours.”
She leaps up.
“Absolutely,” she flushes. “Let me just clean myself up.”
The woman scurries off, and I follow minutes later. Now Lacy’s in the bathroom, brushing her hair. She’s changed out of her teddy and into something more business casual. An ivory pantsuit with golden buttons. She has a red scarf tied around her neck. She looks positively glamorous.
“So Lacy,” I say. “You know how I’ve always wanted to get a portrait done of you?”
“Well yes, I’ve heard you mention it.”
“That’s right. The portraits in this penthouse bore me. They’re all of people I don’t know who appear to be sixty, so I’m thinking of replacing them. With portraits of you, sweetheart.
”
She flushes.
“Really? But that would mean at last twenty paintings!”
I laugh.
“Well, we don’t have to put all twenty up at once. But maybe one or two, so people can see how beautiful you are.”
She flushes.
“I’d like that,” Lacy murmurs, biting her lip. “Also, I forgot to mention. With all this seed in me, there may be a baby growing in me soon.”
The idea sends a shockwave through my body. There was no reason for me to feel like Lacy was anything less than mine, but implanting my seed in her womb would seal the deal. She would be no one else’s. My cock started to rise for a third time that morning just imagining her growing round with my children. Oh shit, it was absolutely right, and suddenly, I wanted it so bad.
But I didn’t want to scare the female, so instead, I changed the subject back to our original topic once more.
“Anyways, Lacy, my little princess. Before we head out, I’m going to have you meet with the portrait painter. They’re going to be doing about twenty different portraits of you, so this is just a preliminary sketch to inform all the others. And yes, what you’re wearing is fine.”
“Who’s the artist?” Lacy applies bee pollen cream to her face and lines her eyes with expensive liquid liner. She’s gotten used to luxury, and it looks good on her.
“Oh, I don’t know. Somebody Edwin found. He’ll escort you to the studio on the third floor after you’re ready.”
“Well sure, I mean, what a special experience!”
“You’re just so beautiful baby. I want you all over this place. Every goddamn wall. And we’re even going to get a couple sexy portraits for our special room.”
“The Jungle Room,” she murmurs coyly.
“What?”
“Let’s call it the Jungle Room. Just like Elvis Presley had in his house. I loved Elvis as a little girl, those blue eyes, that dark, sexy hair…”
I pounce on my princess.
“As long as the only other man that comes to your mind is a dead old rock star, we can call it The Jungle Room. Whatever you wish, sweetheart.”
