Tuesday 22 May 2012

The Virgin Billionaire's Baby Part 2


by the Evil Editors

Markie-Linda batted her brown-eyed gaze at the man who she wanted to gobble up his whole body especially the sexy scruff under his chin which she wanted to rub across her giant, red tipped, sexy breasts which were even now hardening to diamond tips that could cut glass under her own expensive dress she had shopped for all week at her favorite store where they always offered her champagne when she shopped there.

Who would have guessed she’d meet her future husband tonight and he’d be a virgin. She wanted him now. Her pointed breasts and shaved folds yearned and ached for his thrusting penis to take control and dominate her. 

“Does this mean you won’t know how to find my cavern of moist love?” She wanted him to know how many it meant to her to find her future husband and virgin lover tonight here in this place.

“Let’s dance,” she invited throatily. She grabbed his hand with her hand and handed him over to her handy friend Imogene. “Then we can have a ménage. If you aren’t afraid, that is.” She fixed him with a demon stare, daring him to back away, to use his inexperience to fight their overweening desire for his giant cock which even now wriggled in his pants in an attempt to find its way free from confinement and bob happily against his belly in the cool air.

He wrenched his hand away from Imogene who he found terrifying in her thigh high stockings and thigh high stiletto boots and thigh high skirt and indented corset. His future wife would never dream of sharing him with the woman with the bullwhip clutched in her hand…would she?

For a moment he imagined the dark and sultry Imogene was his future wife, but the prophesy insisted his wife have blue eyes and her eyes were green. Plus the bullwhip would leave welts on his thick cock or possibly his tender ass and he didn’t like that idea one single solitary bit.

“No, I wouldn’t,” claimed Markie-Linda, snatching him back and cupping his erection through his tight pants. “She is,” she hissed painfully, “A baby broker and I owe her a debt.” She was afraid he wouldn’t marry her when he knew what that debt was, but they had kept their secrets long enough. She rushed back to the still rotating stool and sat down on it, her parted legs baring her commando femininity to the soft, cushioned, brown, round upholstered surface. Her pussy wept with joy. Maybe if she had her stool she didn’t need him. NO. She dropped her carefully made up face to the bar.

She knew Imogene waited for her answer impatiently and angrily, her urge to tie them both up and make them perform overwhelming her good sense. She fought vainly and with valor, but decided she wanted it all and more. “Hurry up and do it!” she chirped, enraged. “I can’t wait all week.” The stilettos made her legs look hella sexy, but they pinched.

“What is this all about,” Joseph demanded commandingly. “Are we or are we not going to dance some more?”

“We haven’t danced at all,” Markie-Lynn pointed out helpfully. “But now we need to go to my apartment upstairs and get started.” She started for the door, her rounded fanny twitching to and fro with her happy gait. He followed her closely, his eyes on her ass, and she grinned proudly at his heated attention. The elevator doors admitted the three of them and she waited for Joseph, with his swarthy good looks, to comment on the other woman’s presence in the elevator with them.

The doors closed on them and they were whisked away to her penthouse suite by the elevator.

 She waited for the elevator door to open, walked out into the hallway, turned to the right, walked down the corridor, stopped at her door, fished in her purse for her key, pulled it out carefully, slipped the key into the lock, unlocked the door, turned the handle, pushed the door open, and walked inside her home, admiring the décor while the others followed, exchanging looks, their eyes boring holes in her back.

The luxury apartment she earned by providing favors for Imogene and their ilk. Until now, her luscious body had been enough, but now they made a scary demand that could only be met by tapping the erotic potential of her future husband.

She spun on all her heels, completely around three times and dropped to her knees in front of him. Yanking down his zipper she tugged his satiny penis from the confines of his oh-so-sexy plaid pants and wrapped her lips around it, being sure to nuzzle his balls on the way. The enticing scent of his sweaty musk filled her lungs and she sighed in excstasy and orgasmed. Things were looking up…or going down.

If…he could be convinced or coerced to put his back into the job. A shame he was poor…if only… he were a secret sheik. Or a typhoon. Or a billionaire…or maybe all three!!!!!? 

Look! There’s a disco ball in this room too! The cascading sparkles circled artistically over the mushroom head of his giant penis, and she bobbed her head down, taking him all the way down her throat, the delicious salty taste just like the ocean in spring when she was on vacation with her friend Suzie.

11 comments:

Faith Bicknell said...

LOL @ the disco ball. It's almost hypnotic!

Kate Richards said...

That evil editor finds the best images! And don't you think every hotel should have a nice disco ball?

Jessica E. Subject said...

LOL Even more entertaining than yesterday. :)

Marci Baun said...

Hahahahahaha You two are so bad!

Unknown said...

I want a man who's secretly a typhoon!

Kate Richards said...

ohhh Sara! You got it! I wondered if anyone would notice that lol

TK Anthony + www.scotianrealm.com said...

Jane Austen, watch out! Your literary prowers are nothing in comparison to the scintillant rhetoric of the egregious Evil Editors!

Marci Baun said...

Oh, I saw that, Kate, and giggled. Typhoon might be interesting in bed. (g)

Kate Richards said...

Hmmm he was a typhoon in bed, breaking wind at every opportunity :)

Marci Baun said...

Ew! (g)

Kate Richards said...

Sounds hella sexy to me lol. I'm sure you help them, if they'll let you, Janice.

Watch this weekend for the 'official review' of this story!