Mr Masters, page 41
“How those tits are going to look around my cock tonight while I fuck them.”
My mouth drops open in shock.
He smiles a slow and sexy smile. “You were safer with the other guy.”
My eyes hold his. I have no words.
“Because, unlike him, I will get you to do what I want. And tonight I want to fuck those big juicy tits of yours.”
My brain misfires as I get a visual of him naked above me, sliding his cock between my… Woah. It’s been too long.
“T-that’s not happening,” I stammer.
He shuffles around in his suit jacket pocket and pulls out a fifty dollar note. “Do you want to place a bet on that?”
“What an over confident prick you are.” I shake my head. Never have I had such a cheap pick up line used on me. “And yes…” I snatch the fifty dollars from his hand. “I will bet fifty dollars on you not getting your cock between my boobs tonight.”
He winks and clinks his glass with mine as he raises a sexy brow. “Thank you. I will take that as a personal challenge.”
I shake my head as I sip my drink. “Does that ridiculous pick up line work on many women?”
He smiles and winks cheekily. “You would be surprised.”
I smirk. There is something extremely honest about this guy. He isn’t pretending to be someone he’s not.
It’s disarming.
His hand drops to my behind again, and he rubs it as he smiles to himself, looking me up and down.
I raise a brow. “You can stop looking at me like I’m your next fuck. There will be no physical activity between us tonight. I’m not that
kind of girl.”
He leans over and kisses me again. “Stop talking.” He smiles against my lips. “You are only making the challenge so much sweeter
for me. I am a goal orientated man, you know.”
“Happy wife, happy life,” I reply sarcastically.
“Blossom, do you really think I couldn’t make you happy as my wife if that were my intention?” He raises his brow.
I laugh out loud. “Shut up, you freak. Who says this shit and gets away with it?”
He laughs out loud as his hands drop to my behind again.
Two hours and six cocktails later…
The sight of his huge cock sliding between my breasts is driving me crazy. We’re back in his room, unable to control our mutual attraction, acting like animals. This is casual sex at its absolute finest. This guy is gorgeous, intelligent, funny, and sexy as fuck.
Not to mention he’s hung like a bloody horse. I’ve died and gone to Vegas Heaven. His knees are on either side of my body as he kneels over me. Large, dark brown eyes stare down at me, and I arch my back, unable to hold the urge to fuck. How did he get me here, doing this?
I’m not this kind of girl, but holy hell, he makes being bad so much damn fun.
He bends and kisses me, his tongue seductively dancing with mine. “You owe me fifty bucks.” He smiles against my lips.
I laugh out loud. “Bastard.”
“Time to work off your debt,” he whispers as he drives his body forward through my breasts. His eyes close in pleasure as his hands
encase my breasts around his cock. “You have the best fucking tits I have ever seen.” He growls.
My eyes roll back in my head. God, this is payment enough. What could be better than this visual sensation?
He begins to really pound my chest until the bed starts to rock and my sex clenches in pleasure. Holy fuck, I need this dick inside me now.
I laugh out loud. This is unbelievable. How the hell did this guy get me back to his room, having me owe him fifty dollars for the privilege?
He smiles sexily as his mouth hangs slack with arousal. “Arrêter de rire ou je remplirai votre bouche avec ma bite,” he whispers as he looks down at me.
Translation: Stop laughing or I will fill your mouth with my cock.
An unexpected thrill runs through me as I reply, “Je pourrais prendre tout cela.”
Translation: I could take it all.
His eyebrow rises in surprise. “Tu parle français?” he asks as he rolls a condom on.
Translation: You speak French?
I grab the back of his head bring it to mine. “Je baise en français trop,” I whisper against his lips.
Translation: I fuck in French, too.
His mouth ravages mine and I feel his hard cock slide between my wet lips. Back and forth he glides his length. I smile. Let’s up the anti. “Obwohl, wenn ich in Deutsch ficken ist, wenn I’m in meinem
besten,” I whisper as my arousal hits a fever pitch.
Translation: Although, when I fuck in German is when I’m at
my best.
He laughs into my mouth and lifts my legs over his shoulder as he impales me in one hard slam. We stay still and our eyes close in pleasure.
Holy fuck.
This guy is good… and huge.
“Sie sollten sehen, was Sie sagen, deutsch meine Bruchstelle ist,” he whispers as he pulls out and slides home again. Translation: You should watch what you say, German is my breaking point.
My back arches off the bed. Oh God, this is too good. His brain is as sharp as his body. I don’t know anyone else bilingual, and these exchanges are blowing my freaking mind. “Ich wollte deinen Schwanz
in den Mund,” I breathe.
Translation: I wanted your cock in my mouth.
He pulls out and immediately hovers above me as he feeds his cock into my open mouth. I taste my own salty arousal. Shit. This guy is off the fucking hook.
“Votre souhait est ma commande ma chère femme.”
Translation: Your wish is my command, my dear wife.
I smile around the large penis as he slides it down my throat and I feel my sex start to pulse. “Je voudrais que vous souffl er dans ma bouche. Si vous étiez vraiment mon mari je boirai vers le bas.”
Translation: I wish you could blow in my mouth. If I was really your wife, I would drink it down.
He shakes his head and smiles sexily down at me as he pushes the hair back from my forehead. “Fuck, moi aussi. Vous souffl ez mon putain de l'esprit ici,” he whispers through his blanket-thick
arousal.
Translation: Fuck, so do I. You are blowing my fucking mind here.
I smile as I flick my tongue over the end of him. His knees are on either side of my head, and his body is moving fluently so he slides in and out of my mouth. His dark eyes watch me struggle to take him fully.
This man has the body of a god and the mind of an angel.
I am in Heaven.
“Je dois te goûter.”
Translation: I need to taste you.
He growls as he pulls out of my mouth and drops between my legs, his tongue swiping through my swollen flesh.
Fuck. My knees try to close as I struggle to gain control of the
sensory overload. He pushes them back to the mattress aggressively as his tongue really takes charge, licking and tasting all that I am.
“How do I taste?” I whisper as my hands drop to the back of his head.
He groans into me as his eyes close in pleasure. His tongue circles and swipes, and I feel myself start to quiver. Oh God, it’s been too long. I’m going to come already.
“Come,” he breathes into me. “I want you to come on my tongue. Give me some cream, Bloss Bomb.”
Holy fuck, this guy is frying my brain. He bites my clitoris and I shudder into him and he groans in pleasure. I grab the back of his head to try and still him.
“Stop,” I pant, this is too much. I am too sensitive. He sucks deeper and his eyes roll back in his head. “You are one hot fuck.” He growls as he laps it all up. He climbs up and over me and slides home in one swift movement.
I frown at the ceiling as my hand runs through his messy curls. I can hardly breathe. He’s so big.
He leans back on his knees and holds my legs in the air as his eyes drop to my sex and he watches my body struggle to take his large muscle. His thumb gently circles over my clitoris, knowing full well that will release me and allow his entry.
He’s experienced and he knows how to loosen a woman straight up. I watch him as I pant, somewhere in between disbelief, denial, and utter ecstasy. I didn’t know that sex could be like this. I haven’t had this before. I thought I’d had good sex… but now I’ve had this... I realize not.
He gently kisses my ankle next to his ear, and he smiles sexily down at me. My eyes hold his for an extended moment and a frown crosses his face as I hold my breath. His hand gently brushes my hair from my face, his thumb running over my bottom lip
God. I close my eyes to block him out. This fucking guy isridiculous. “Regarde moi,” he whispers.
Translation: Look at me.
I force my eyes to open and drag them up to meet his. “Vous êtes la plus belle femme putain j'ai jamais été avec,” he
whispers softly. Translation: You are the most beautiful fucking woman I have ever been with.
He drops his body to mine, and his lips dust mine with reverence. We kiss for an extended time, as if forgetting that he’s still inside mine. An intimacy that is as beautiful as it is petrifying. Slow, gentle, and tender.
Stop it. You don’t even know him and this is a one- night stand.
“Cesser d'être molle et baise-moi,” I whisper.
Translation: Stop being mushy and fuck me.
He smiles against my lips. “That’s a first.” He smirks as he starts to slowly pump me.
“W-what do you… mean?” I pant.
“Nobody has ever said that to me before.”
I laugh as he pulls out and slams back into me, knocking the air from my lungs. He pumps me hard again. “And if I want to be mushy with my wife I have every fucking right to be.”
I laugh again as he lifts my legs over his shoulders once more and really lets me have it. His knees are wide to give him traction, and I can see every muscle in his stomach ripple as he moves. Strong, punishing hits as the bed smacks the wall with force.
Oh, he won’t be easy to forget.
My body starts to quiver again, and he smiles darkly, sensing my orgasm’s arrival. He knows his way around a woman’s body.
Damn.
Of course he does.
Our bodies are covered in a sheen of perspiration and I close my eyes to try and stop the orgasm. I want this to last. I need this to last.
“I… don’t want… to come,” he pants.
“Me neither,” I breathe as I pull him back to my lips. “Promise me we will do this again in a minute.”
He laughs against me. “We can do this all night, Bloss.” I smile as he lifts my behind with his hand to really hit the end of me, and I cry out as my body contracts around his large muscle.
“Fuck, yeah!” he calls as his head rolls forward and he comes in a rush.
We stay still, both gasping for air. Both wet with perspiration.
Jesus Christ…
What the hell was that?
His mouth meets mine and he kisses me softly as he cups my jaw. I smile against his lips and he kisses me tenderly again. “What an excellent wife you are.”
I laugh and he rolls us so that I am now on top of his large body. I rest my head against his chest as I try to catch my breath.
His hand drops between my legs and he spreads them so they hang over each side of his body. He starts to work me again; his three large fingers slide into my wet, swollen flesh. “That was the entrée and this is a ten-course meal.”
Four hours and four showers later, I lie in the semi-darkened room with my fake husband. The light is just peeking through the crack in the drapes. My head is on his chest and his large, muscular arms are around me. The night has been unbelievable to say the least. We have devoured each other, and if he wasn’t out of condoms we
probably still would be. I think we must have used a whole box.
“Where do you live?” he asks.
“New York,” I breathe. I cringe when I hear my husky voice—a symptomatic problem from lasts night’s Tequila and giving head activities, no doubt. “Where do you live?” I ask.
“Texas. Originally from Australia.”
I gently kiss his chest and smile in contentment. “I had a good wedding night.”
He kisses my forehead. “Me, too.” I feel his lips smile against my skin. “You probably won’t be walking for a while.”
I giggle into his chest. “Actually, can you organize a wheel chair to get me back to my room, please?”
“I would, but I think I will be using it myself.”
We lie in comfortable silence for a while longer. His hand runs back and forth over my behind, as if he’s memorizing every inch.
“Are you using the theorem of calculus to measure my ass?”
He laughs out loud and rolls me onto my back, holding my hands above my head. “Your mind is a fucking turn on,” he breathes before his tongue gently explores my mouth. I just can’t get my fill of this guy. “I could say the same thing. I’ve never had bilingual sex before.” I smile. Hell, most guys I’ve slept with can’t even speak English to me when we have sex, let alone drop in and out of three languages.
He smiles as he bites my bottom lip and pulls it toward him. “Moi
non plus. Je peux être accro.”
Translation: Me neither. I may be addicted.
I have always had a love of languages. They were my stress reliever when I was in high school and my parents were divorcing. I would lock myself in my bedroom and listen to language tapes through headphones so I couldn’t hear them fighting. Looking back, all those hours alone in my room spent teaching myself was worth it just to experience the night I had with him. He challenged me, but I challenged him right back, and I know I surprised him. Hell, I surprised myself. It was empowering to be able to keep up with such an obviously intelligent man. Our eyes lock and something clicks into place as I feel a flutter deep in my stomach.
“What do you do for work?” I ask to change the subject.
He lies naked on his side and rubs his hand over my breast, squeezing it hard. “I’m a mechanic.”
I bite my lip to stifle my smile. He has softer hands than me. No way is he a mechanic.
So, we’re playing that game, are we?
“What do you do?” he asks.
“I work in an ice cream shop.”
He can’t hide his smile. “You are a dreadful liar. There is no way in Hell you serve ice cream.”
I laugh. “You lied first.”
He laughs as his lips drop to my nipple and he takes it in his mouth. “Touché.” He smirks.
“What do you think I do?” I ask.
He narrows his eyes as he thinks. “Your body tells me you are a gym instructor, but your mind tells me you’re a scientist.”
I smile as I bring his lips to meet mine. “I have to go.” I sit up.
He frowns and leans up onto his elbow. “What? Where are you going?”
I stand up, and his eyes drop down my body. “New York,” I answer.
He frowns, “You’re going home? Today?”
I nod as I walk around his room picking up my clothes. “Uh-huh.”
I pick up my phone and check the time. “I fly out in three hours. I’ve got to get a move on.”
His face drops. “But…”
I pick up my bra and put it on. “But what?”
“I wanted to see you again,” he says as he watches me dress.
I smile and lean over the bed to kiss his gorgeous lips. “Hmm.” I smile against them. “Sorry. Bachelorette weekend is over.”
He leans up and grabs me, pulling me back on top of him. “Stay another night.”
God, I wish. He kisses me again.
“I already have my plane ticket for today,” I breathe.
“I’ll buy you another ticket for tomorrow,” he offers.
For a brief moment, I consider it.
“I’m here until tomorrow,” he tells me. “We could spend another night together.” He smiles sexily.
Could I?
Who am I kidding? We don’t even know each other’s names and he just lied straight out and told me he was a mechanic. Besides, I’m totally out of money. I wouldn’t even be able to pay for my dinner tonight. Damn it. “Sorry, hubby.” I stand and put my black lacy panties on as he watches me. “This is where our marriage ends.”
He puts both hands behind his head as he lies back down and smiles broadly. My face mirrors his. “What?”
“I kind of like being married to you.”
I widen my eyes at him in jest.
“I know. Shocking, isn’t it?” He smirks.
I pull my dress over my shoulders and slip into it.
“Come back to bed. I’m not finished with you.”
I sit on the bed and kiss him once more. “I’m not finished with you, either, but I have to go.”
He frowns and begrudgingly gets out of bed. My eyes drop down his naked body. He is one hell of a fine specimen— tall, athletic, muscular broad chest with a scattering of dark hair. His hair is chocolate brown with a little bit of length on the top allowing it to have a just fucked messy look. His eyes are dark brown and he has a two-day growth going on. My eyes drop lower to the short, dark, well-kept pubic hair that encases his grand jewels. The man is well endowed and hell… he knows it. I imagine that every woman he sleeps with falls madly in love with him. He has money. He smells of it. Plus the clothes he had on last night. The Rolex watch. The well dressed large group of men he was with. I think his shoes alone would have cost a couple of grand. This room is luxury, it’s not even a room, it’s a suite… incomparable to my shitty, shared room with two single beds next to each other that my two girlfriends and me are sharing because we have no money. He pulls on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. “Can I take you out for breakfast?”
I glance down at myself. Ugh, I look abysmal, but I fake a smile. “No. But thank you.”
He frowns as he pulls me against him again. “Are you trying to get away from me?”
I smile. “No, I just got to go.”
His lips linger on mine. Oh to hell with my budget. Stay and fuck this guy stupid. I pull out of his grip and pick up my handbag.
“Hold on a sec until I get some shoes on and I will walk you to your room.” He disappears into the bathroom. I quickly take out fifty dollars and put it on his bedside table, scribbling on the hotel notepad sitting next to his phone.
