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“Your puss would taste even better if there was some cum in the mix. Champagne and cum. You think you can handle that?”
And wordlessly, I’d stared at him, the heaving of my breasts my only answer. Because was this really going to happen? How would it work?
But Mr. Childs has all the answers. Reaching one big hand down, he stroked his cock slowly, easing out a heavy trickle of pre-cum. And then with the wetness on his hands, he painted my clit again, making me mewl and arch my back with pleasure.
“Oh!” was my helpless cry, clit so hard and ready, standing stiffly straight up. “Oh!”
The alpha rasped, eyes on his handiwork.
“Yeah, it’s beautiful like this,” was his harsh growl. “Your clit slick and smooth with a double coating of champagne and cum.”
And in one swoop, he was on it again, biting and sucking at my sweetest spot, drinking my cream mixed in with his potent juices.
“Oh!” came my helpless cry. “Oh oh OH!”
Because I’m a virgin. I’ve never been with a man in the biblical sense. My hymen’s still there, deep inside and secret. But Mr. Dawson and Mr. Childs didn’t know, and they were bringing me to new heights. I squealed, pussy bursting on the alpha’s lips.
“Oh!” came my gasp. “Oh god oh god oh god!”
The fall of cream was almost embarrassing. So much came rushing from my hole that it rivaled a man’s ejaculation, the river wild and wet. But Mr. Child’s was on it. He drank every last drop, lapping at my folds, forcing his tongue into a point and slipping it up my dripping canal.
“Oh!” I screamed again. “Oh oh!”
And something about the hot situation, the nastiness of what we were doing sent him over the edge. Because with a muffled roar into my pussy, the billionaire came as well.
That cock shivered in the air, trembling, before erupting with giant spurts.
“FUCK!” he shouted into my sweetly creaming cunt. “Fuck fuck fuck!”
And the semen was so beautiful. It was a waterfall, pulsing two feet into the air, landing on my breasts, my tummy, not to mention the chair, tabletop, and his immaculate suit. We were literally covered in man milk, hot jizz splattered everywhere.
But Mr. Childs doesn’t waste. Because once the pulsing subsided somewhat, he pulled back to take a look at my cum-splattered form.
“So beautiful,” was his murmur. “Absolutely gorgeous.”
And then the dark man did something that made the air seize in my lungs, senses going wild. Because reaching a big hand up, he scooped up some semen from my breast and tummy, the goopy white sticky and tacky between his fingers. And then the dark man caressed my intimate folds, rubbing virile baby batter into every crevice, even pushing it into my sweetly steaming hole.
“Oh,” was my sensuous murmur. “Oh god.”
The man glanced up at me, blue eyes wicked.
“You like that don’t you?” he rasped. “This slutty cunt likes getting the sperm rubbed in.”
And with his words, I came again. It wasn’t a huge one this time, just a small secondary explosion, creamy and fluid. But it was an orgasm all the same because Mr. Childs had touched something deep inside, literally and figuratively.
Yes, his fingers were stroking my sweetly steaming puss, making me feel good.
But it was more his words. Because I’m a slut. I’m letting a billionaire, a man I don’t know, touch me intimately. I’m even letting him push his semen into my most private spot, the thrill of a virile man’s seed throwing me over the edge. I wanted that sperm. I wanted the hot goopy white to coat my most intimate parts.
And crying out, I called his name then.
“Yes Charlie,” was my breathless gasp, body shaking as he stroked even more. “Yes.”
The billionaire caught my lips with his, pulling my head down even as his fingers glided over my private space, toying lightly with my hole.
“That’s it,” he whispered. “That’s it, pretty baby. Enjoy.”
And I collapsed then. My curvy form landed in his lap as we kissed, mouths fused, my naked form coated with his cum.
