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“FUCK!” I shout at the top of my lungs, my scream sounding like the cry of some wild beast. “FUCK,” I repeat, my consciousness stretched so thin that I don’t even know what’s real and what’s not. Pleasure spreads from my nipples, ass, and pussy to the rest of my body, infusing every single cell with a sensation so wild and intense that it’s a miracle I still haven’t passed out.
And Drake keeps on pounding me; even though I’m coming so hard that I might melt away, he hasn’t stopped thrusting. In fact, I’d say he’s going at it even harder, if that’s possible. His thrusts are so fast that I can’t even tell when he’s going in or out of me; all I know is that he’s ravaging me like no one has ever done. And it’s simply glorious.
“Oh God, oh God, OHMYGOD!” I blurt out, another orgasm exploding on top of the last one. My muscles are no longer spasming; they’re shaking so intensely that it looks like I’m having a seizure. And I guess I am having a seizure, to be honest; what I’m experiencing right now is so outside the realm of what I thought to be possible that I don’t know any other word to label it.
“Seems like you were woman enough for me, after all,” I hear Drake say, but his voice seems like it’s coming from some far corner of the universe. Finally, he stops moving, slowing down thrust by thrust, and then he pulls his cock out of me. I collapse on the floor almost immediately.
I reach for the clamps and, with trembling fingers, I take them off my nipples. I go for the bullet and pull it out from my ass, and only then do I take a deep breath, sitting up on the floor and leaning back against the wall.
“Am I still alive?” I ask him, forcing my eyes open and looking up at him like an idiot.
“You’re still alive,” he responds with a smile, the shadow of his huge mast falling over my face. Allowing instinct to take the steering wheel, I go up to my knees and grab his cock with both my hands. I start stroking him immediately, moving my hands back and forth over his shaft; the rhythm starts slow, but it’s only a matter of seconds until I’m stroking him so fast that the muscles in my arms and shoulders complain from the effort.
“Now here’s your reward,” I tell him, leaning in and using my tongue to jab at the tip of his cock. “I want you to come in my mouth,” I say, and then just wrap my lips around his cock. This time I give him my all, bobbing my head back and forth as fast as I can right from the start. I use one hand to stroke him while I suck, and I take the other one to his balls, caressing them as I drive him to the edge of pleasure.
The moment I feel the first spasm of his cock, I realize that having him come in my mouth is a mistake. Well, a delicious mistake, actually; throbbing violently, he gushes a stream of warm semen into my mouth, and all it takes is a mere second for him to fill me up to the brim. Cum drips out of my mouth, drops making their way down my chin, and he still keeps on cumming.
I move back, popping his cock out of my mouth, and a thick strand of semen hits me straight in the face. I close my eyes by instinct, and swallow the cum inside my mouth at the same time, the saltiness of it burning its way down my throat. The moment that’s done, I open my mouth and throw my head back, allowing him to empty his load all over my face, which he does more easily than I thought.
He covers my face with his seed with two spasms of his cock, and then I just grab it and angle it down; he keeps on gushing his load, but this time it hits me in the chest, large gooey strands sliding down my breasts and making their way onto my stomach.
“Fuck,” he groans, looking at me with a wild smile. I might've had the best sex of my life, but something tells me that the same is valid for him. I don’t know if this has anything to do with the forbidden aspect of fucking someone in your family, but the sex we had was on a whole other level. If the Greek gods were real, I doubt their sex would be half as good as ours.
“This was fucking insane,” he tells me, blurting it out as his cock gives its dying spasms against my fingers.
“It was so much more than just fucking insane,” I admit, peeling my fingers off his cock and closing my eyes for a whole second, exhaustion finally taking over my body. When I open my eyes again, he’s already kneeling by my side, an easy smile dawning on his lips.
“You know,” he whispers, gently brushing my hair to the side and looking at my cum-coated face with a hard-to-read expression, “you look so hot right now.”
Without even waiting for a reply, he leans into me and brushes his lips against mine. I place both my hands on his face and kiss him back, parting my lips and sliding my tongue inside his mouth. We kiss in complete abandonment and, at the same time, he squeezes my breasts, smearing his cum all over my naked skin.
“Now I can say the same about you,” I tell him, pulling back from his kiss and glancing at his lips, drops of his own cum making them glisten.
Using two fingers, I run them up from my waist to the valley between my breasts, scooping whatever cum I can on the way. Then, I take my fingers to his mouth and brush them over his lips, painting them in white.
Moving gently, I kiss him once more, this time taking it slow and really savoring him. He does the same, our tongues dancing around one another over a blanket of semen.
“This is so fucked up,” he finally says, his words sounding genuine and candid.
“It is,” I admit, remembering that the man in front of me—the man who fucked me almost to the point of passing out—is actually my stepdad. Yeah, I guess that ‘fucked up’ covers it.
But then I look into his eyes and smile, my heart beating steadily and a warm pleasant feeling washing over me. Right now, I should feel guilt, or shame, or whatever it is the prudes would like me to feel; I should regret the fact that I’ve broken one of society’s most sacred taboos. I should do and feel all these things, but the truth is that I can’t.
Screw what society says; screw what people think. Hell, screw what that little voice inside my head keeps on whispering (this is wrong, this is wrong, he’s your stepdad!). To hell with all of that.
I’m a grown woman and, fucked up or not, this was the best sex of my life.
Drake
I lean back in my leather chair, my feet propped on top of my desk. From the floor-to-ceiling windows of my office, I can see the entire New York City skyline, like a glittering necklace draped across the city. To me, there isn't much that's more beautiful than this. It signifies power, progress, and best of all—money.
It's a testament to what man can accomplish. When the first man figured out how to put a building in the sky, that's when cities became real—when they had their individual fucking fingerprints. They had an identity.
St. Louis can have its Gateway Arch; San Francisco can have its Golden Gate Bridge; Las Vegas can have its golden lion and Pyramid that spears a beam of light into outer space; Washington DC can have its Lincoln Memorial; and Seattle can have its Space Needle; but New York City … well, nothing fucking compares to Gotham. Sure, we've got the Empire State Building and the Chrysler Building, but this city's got something more; it's got guts because you know what? It's been reaching for the sky since the fucking beginning.
Just then, my mid-day reverie is cut short, and my office door flies open. I look over to see Sloane bursting in. My secretary is running after him, her necklace bouncing up and down on her chest, and she's flashing me an apologetic and flustered look.
"I'm sorry, sir, he wouldn't take no for an answer. He insisted on seeing you."
