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I lick and suck and flick and plunge my tongue into Mia’s dripping pussy, gripping her hips to hold her still because she’s bucking and writhing like a madwoman. Her cries get louder and louder until she’s screaming my name.
And the cameras capture all of it. My head buried between her legs, her quaking body, her pussy that’s starting to pour rivers of cum all over my face.
The audience is going fucking wild like I’ve never heard them before. Glancing up at Mia’s face, I see her eyes roll back in her head.
See? What did I tell you?
Then she gives one final scream—my name of course—and her body lifts up off the chair, then collapses.
I lean back on my heels and wipe my mouth on the jacket of my ten-thousand-dollar suit.
Mia just fucking passed out.
I look at the camera and flash my cockiest grin. That will show all the doubters and haters.
Next thing I know, Toby is running over to help revive Mia. When she looks up at me with awe in her eyes, and says, “You’ve restored my faith in the existence of orgasms,” I think for a second she’s about to declare me the fucking messiah of cunnilingus.
The audience reaches a fever pitch, and I wink for the camera. Once again I’ve over delivered on the promise of a mind-blowing orgasm. I am, in fact, the Cunning Linguist.
Jake
“Dude,” Toby says, shaking his head in disbelief. “That was fucking insane.”
I laugh as I settle down in my desk chair, unknotting my tie and throwing it across my office to land on top of the pussy-juice stained jacket that’s hanging over the arm of my buttery leather couch. This office is a total man cave. I spend a shit ton of time here, so I made sure my interior designer made it comfortable. It’s all dark woods and leather, dark gray walls. I even have a huge, heavy wooden bar imported from Germany off to the side with the most expensive distillations of scotch available.
Kicking back in my chair, I prop my feet on the desk, crossing my feet at the ankles, and clasp my hands behind my head.
“Fuck yeah, it was. Best episode to date. I dare those fuckers to question my skills now.”
Toby pulls out a tablet and starts tapping away on the glass, no doubt ready to give me a breakdown of the show stats. We do this every night.
“Man, the viewers loved it,” Toby says. “Fucking amazing. More people tuned in for this than any episode ever according to our analysts.”
I arch an eyebrow at him and flash a smug grin. “Obviously. Did you have any doubt?”
“Obviously not since it was my fucking idea in the first place, asshole,” Toby laughs.
“You wish you were genius enough to think of showing me actually going down on the guest.” I love giving Toby a hard time. He reminds me a lot of a younger version of myself. He certainly doesn’t have any problem getting pussy on his own. He’s got enough of an ego to attempt giving me a run for my money with this show if we weren’t actually friends.
He just rolls his eyes. “Whatever, old man. Without me you’d still be fighting off the trolls on Twitter.”
“Fuck you,” I say with a laugh. “Old man, my left nut.” He’s, like, only five years younger than me. “You just stick around and maybe some of my skills will rub off on you.”
“Speaking of Twitter,” his eyes are back on the tablet, obviously seeing something interesting enough to tear him away from our favorite pastime of giving each other shit, “we’re trending.”
“As usual.”
“Yeah, but tonight it’s all about how the show put it all out there.” Toby frowns a little, and I take my feet off the desk and rest my elbows on it as I lean forward. “Everyone has something to say about how we got everything on camera.”
I shrug. I’m used to it, and I don’t care. The pearl clutchers are always gonna have something to say. Fuck ‘em.
Actually, that’s probably half their problem. They’ve never had a
good hard fucking. I should take the high road and offer them an opportunity to come on my show. Maybe these prudes out there just need to know how fucking awesome sex is. I laugh out loud at the idea.
“Dude, seriously,” Toby says, cutting his eyes at me briefly before returning to scrolling through whatever shit Twitter is offering up about my tongue and I. “We’re probably going to get a fucking huge fine from the FCC.”
“Whatever,” I scoff. “I can afford it. Besides, there’s no such thing as bad publicity, right? All this is going to do is give us even more viewers because we’ve effectively shut down all the cynics.”
