4:Bland Orgasm
1310 Words
Zack’s POV
“Oh… god! f**k me… Your big black c**k is so delicious… Oh yeah…” The minister’s supposed fiancée moans over my c**k. “Better than I've ever had.”
I spread her skinny naked body on my desk and f**k her, hard.
Brutal. Till every inch of my c**k gets buried in her thin greedy wet p***y.
“Ahhh… Oh, yeah… Give it to me… Just like that…” She digs her hands in her hair and grabs a handful, moaning shamelessly. “My p***y… Oh, god!”
One hand leaves her hair, scoops saliva, and slams her cunt, as she blindly rubs and massages her clit.
“You’ll ruin me, Zaddy… f**k!”
Her big sagged breasts spread all over her body, bounce as I pump into her and send her body vibrating on my mahogany desk. Her thighs part wide and curl around my waist, locking me in her white neatly shaved p***y.
“Come here.” I grab her knees and slam her against me. The force sends my c**k shooting into her now red cunt.
“AHHHH!!!” She jerks and stiffens.
Her hands grab the table, legs spread wider, hanging in the air without caution.
“Godddd!!!” She bites her bottom lip, holding back her heavy moans. “My p***y…”
Just last week, the blubber-mouth minister bragged about having the most loyal fiancée. Worse still, a freaking virgin. He’d sworn that she wasn't in for his money, nor would she cheat on him. It made me chuckle. Ten years ago I was an i***t like him, set to wed the love of my life only for her to dump me at the altar for my best man, saying I had no future, just some bunch of stupid apps with no potential.
The scandal still lives; the World's richest man got dumped for a twenty-thousand-dollar suitor.
And now, she regrets it. But I was done. Done with her, done with love. Women are bloody cheats, opportunists, only good for s*x and filth.
So I dared the big-mouth minister, with my fifty-million-dollar mansion in Miami and a hundred thousand dollars at stake. For him, it's his reputation. Right now, I bet he’s on the call with my aide and he can hear his b***h scream to my c**k. I’d save it and make him use it as his ringtone for one damn month.
“Oh lord… You’re a f*****g beast, Zaddy.” She twirls, rocking her wide p***y to my c**k.
I scoff, the only sound I've made since the boring exercise.
No sweat.
No fun.
Just my c**k ramming into wetness. The sound doesn't excite me, nor their fake moans.
“I want to c*m…” She thrashes against me, slapping the weak lips of her cunt all over me. “Let me c*m…”
“Shhh…” I grab her waist and pull out.
“Please… Don't stop…” She vibrates beneath me, while all her holes beg for my c**k. “f**k me, please…”
“Who does it better?” I display my cocky grin and stroke myself, from the base of the shaft to the sleek cap trapped in the condom.
“You.” She sits up, one hand reaching for my c**k. “Please… YOU!!!”
“Say my bloody name, bitch.”
“Zack.” She cries and throws her head backward in frustration. “Zack Lombardi!”
“Good girl.” I run my free fingers from the start of her throbbing clit, along her wet slit, until I touch her gaping asshole.
“Hmmm!” She jerks, clenching her bum cheeks to my fingers.
Firmly.
“Oh, yeahhh…” She twists, pressing her needy cunt to my forearm.
She groans and rocks, this close to falling off the table.
“How about your precious minister?”
“Oh, f**k that old hag.” She tries to grab my c**k but whimpers when I smack her hand.
I scoff again, enjoying the chaos in paradise. “Sure?”
“Yes!” She cries, frustrated. I see her wriggle.
Feel her.
“Forget about him and f**k me already.” She continues her desperate plea. “I'm sorry… Just… Please…”
She opens her leg like a cheap w***e, drives her scissors-shaped fingers down her thighs, and spreads out her cunt. “This b***h wants you… PLEASE…”
I flip her and position her on all four. Her small ass pushes out, in my view.
Smack!
The sting from my rough hand leaves a red mark on her soft skin. Her soft ass vibrates like ripples.
“Oh. My god!” She rolls her head and bites down again.
“Let's get this over with.” I ram into her, slapping my narrow hips to her wide ones, and digging into her wetness.
“Godddd!!!” She stiffens, releases, and stiffens.
Her ass bounces on my c**k as I ride her, harder.
Faster.
Hotter.
“YES!!! Oh, yes!” She collapses on the table, shaking. Her p***y tightens around my c**k, spitting out filthy cream on my table. “Thank you, Zaddy… Fuckkkk!!!”
I pull out, roll off the condom strip, and dump it in the trash. I ignore her and get into my ripped pants, then settle my ass in my king-sized armchair. I take out my cigar and light it.
“Clean up your mess and leave.” My voice is cold, nothing like the man that f****d her.
“Huh?” She flips over to face me, breasts and p***y in grand display.
“You only have five minutes.” I sigh, irritated. “Two.”
“Jesus…”
“He did nothing.” I cut her off. “Pick your s**t and leave.”
I ignore her rumblings and focus on the thick ash cloud from my cigar.
She picks up her purse, takes out a small pack of face wipes, and cleans up her mess, then starts to get dressed. Done, she walks over to the door.
“I could come over when you're in a good mood.” She hesitates.
I puff, eyes on her. “I don't f**k the same b***h twice.”
Her hope shatters. The hurt is boldly written on her face. She curses and walks out. Alistair, my aide, knocks and walks in. He has this disdainful look on his face. He hates this side of me, claims his is not like the others. It's only out of respect that I haven't folded his b***h yet.
“How did it go?”
He shuts the door and walks in. “The minister wants to speak with you.”
I spin into laughter and reach for my tray of Louis XIII Cognac and a branded glass. “Tell him I'm busy.” The nasty smirk is still on my lips. “Fix the jet, I'm cruising in Miami tonight.”
Of course, it's a show to hurt the minister even more. Me cruising in a house that should be his while he sucks.
“Uh… about that…” He comes closer. “I got tipped on a bad operation.” He continues. “Some ring lords are hosting a s*x party… with minors as dessert.”
“Those fuckers.” I groan, fuelled with rage.
“They’re going to use the party as cover.” He spills more tea.
“When is it?”
“Tonight.” He pauses, eyes on me, silently reminding me of the vow I made on my little niece’s grave.
Fuck.
“Don't cancel my trip.” My fingers curl tighter around the glass. I gulp the last of my drink and watch his sad expression. “I'm going to Miami after the operation.”
His mood brightens, hope reignites. “Yes, boss. I'll book your reservation right away.”
- Writer
