Chapter6
Evil Plans
Stu hadhis head between my legs and I was enjoying the attention he gave me. My groans and the lapping of his tongue were the only sounds in my suite at the Ace Hotel. The afternoon sun poked through the curtains and highlighted dust motes in the air.
Stu stood 6’4” tall and his shoulders spanned half that length. He had muscles everywhere but between his ears. My husband, Dirk, hadn’t touched me in over a month and I needed relief.
I ran my hand through his crew cut, sandy brown hair and pressed his face into my sex. The ex-marine held the position of Head of Security for Baxter Enterprises and took care of both my husband, Dirk’s security, and mine.
Right now his job was to secure me an orgasm. Or three.
He had one superior talent that set him apart, at least in my mind, and that was an extremely long tongue. He penetrated my pussy with that tongue and I felt it spread me open.
I couldn’t help but moan and grip the back of his head tighter. My hips ground into him and I reveled in the pleasure shooting through my body. I wrapped my long legs around him, securing his head exactly where I wanted it. I pulled a strand of my red hair away from my face.
He definitely was talented with his tongue.
As he pleasured me, though, my mind wandered to my current predicament. That damn pre-nuptial agreement and my impotent husband, Dirk Baxter.
The man was a billionaire. At least, that is what I told my girlfriends when we would get together for shopping and martinis. I also made it a point to remind my agent of the fact and every casting agent I talked to as well.
He always told me he wasn’t a billionaire.Not yet, he always said. He had plenty of money though and treated me generously. I had credit cards which were paid off each month. The limits were disappointing—two cards, each with a ten thousand dollar limit. I bumped up against the limits regularly, which was so embarrassing when it happened over martinis with my girlfriends.
Twenty thousand a month though was much more than I brought in from my modeling jobs and the occasional small part I’d get in a sitcom or a random tv show that needed a red-headed beauty to be murdered, arrested, or just look pretty.
Stu’s tongue jerked me back from my thoughts as he applied pressure to the little pink nub just above my slit. One of his hands caressed my breast, which lay exposed above my red push-up bra.
I squeezed and pulled on the nipple of the other breast.
His up and down tongue motions, followed by one of his fingers penetrating me, brought me to a quick orgasm.
My cravings for orgasms were only surpassed by my desire for money. So I barely slowed down my breathing and pressed his face into my pussy again.
“More. Harder. Just like that,” I instructed.
I let my worries slip away so I could enjoy the moment. The feeling of his tongue on my flesh fanned the flames of my excitement. My hips bucked up to meet his thrusting finger. I pushed his head into my grinding and continued to pinch my nipple.
Soon another wave of pleasure crashed over me like a twenty footer at Zuma Beech. I wasn’t a surfer, but a modeling friend of mine was. He was always talking about those waves. My best orgasms felt like what I imagined riding one of those waves would feel like.
“Oh, Baby. Fuck me. I want you deep inside me.” My moans, like the waves, subsided before the next swell. I patted him on the shoulder and pulled on him to stand up.
He did, and then grabbed my hips and pulled me to the edge of the king-size bed. A cool breeze blew in from the open patio door that led to the balcony. He positioned his engorged member right at the entrance to my wet cunt.
Sweat clung to my body, and my red hair matted on my forehead.
“You ready for a good fuck, Scarlet,” he grunted.
“Yes, Baby. I need another orgasm or two before I have to head home.”
Stu obliged by sliding his cock inside of me. He had to do it slowly. His girth split me open, and it was painful at first. Once he had fully penetrated me and started pumping in and out of me, the pain turned into pleasure.
I liked pain, but I liked pleasure more. I preferred dishing out pain rather than receiving it. Soon he found that pleasant rhythm and he was doing all the work.
I had to put one hand across my boobs to keep them from bouncing too much. They were pretty immobile for the most part, but the implants could start swaying pretty well when he fucked me vigorously. He removed my hand.
“I like to see your boobs bouncing as I fuck you,” he said.
“Do you, Baby?” I replied.
