Prologue
Pop!
I swear to fucking God that’s the sound that Wanda’s mouth makes as she pulls her lips off my cock. Like a real-life actual fucking popping sound. Filled with lascivious suction. You know the kind. When you get your lips around a cock real good, and create a vacuum.
Maybe you don’t know the kind of sound I’m talking about. You do need a pretty big fucking cock to be able to help make that suction.
And baby, I know we just met, but if there is one thing you need to know about Elijah fucking Kennedy, it’s that I have just such a cock.
You rolling your eyes yet, darlin?
Not another one of these alpha hole billionaires with a fucking 12-inch cock, you’re saying?
Had enough? There really seem to be so many of them nowadays, doesn’t there? Can’t go down your Kindle store without them pulling their cocks out and trying to slap you right in the fucking face with them, huh?
Well, if I may say so, yours truly is a different breed of billionaire bad boy.
“I don’t know, Elijah,” Wanda says looking up at me as she blinks. She’s got a nice trickle of spit running down her chin and she blinks at me a couple times, trying to look slutty. Instead she ends up just looking fucking dumb. “You think we should keep doing this? It feels so right.”
I sigh. This little blowjob is starting to cost more than I’m fucking willing to pay. Like shut the fuck up, Wanda, and fucking open wide already.
“It feels wrong but that’s what makes it so fucking good. This is your last night of freedom, babe,” I say soothingly to her. “After tonight, you’re going to be married. And you’ll never be able to do this again.”
Wanda looks at me for a minute, all conflicted and shit, and I continue. “Wouldn’t you like to have one last suck before you tie the fucking knot?”
She nods.
Now I know what you’re thinking.
Who the fuck is this asshole getting a fucking blowjob from this woman who is apparently about to get fucking married.
I’m going to tell you. But first let me close my fucking eyes and let them roll to the back of my head as Wanda proceeds to wrap her lips around me one more time.
I know. I know. You got fucking questions.
Let me give you a proper introduction in case you’re not a frequent reader of the New York Daily News business pages.
Elijah Kennedy. Self-made billionaire. One of the three founders of the breakthrough biotech company, BioKin. I handle the public relations for the firm and own roughly a 33% stake in the multi-billion dollar enterprise.
I work fucking hard to make my money. Regardless of what the tabloids might fucking say about me, it’s simply not true that all I do is get drunk and fuck bitches.
I mean that part is true, too. But that’s not the only fucking thing I do.
I wake up at fucking 4 am every fucking morning to go for a run around the Central Park Reservoir. I’m in the office by 7 am every day. No matter how late I was up till the night before. And that’s where I start using my silver fucking tongue to sell the public on the marvels of laboratory built scientific miracles.
Fuck. It’s the fucking life, baby. I’ll be honest. You can’t have a much better life than me. Penthouse suites. A collection of Mercedes Benz that makes me the top fucking car collector in the fucking world. Private jets at my beck and call.
And a silver fucking tongue that spreads the legs and melts the fucking panties off of every girl I’ve ever fucking met.
Like slutty little Wanda here who’s moaning like my cock’s the best fucking thing she’s ever put in her mouth. Spoiler: it fucking is.
What the fuck kind of name is Wanda, you ask? And why the fuck is she sucking my dick like she’s never going to get some ever again?
Let me just put this out there—normally, I don’t fucking like cheaters. It’s one of the reasons I don’t keep girlfriends. I don’t give them a chance to fucking cheat on me. I fuck. And then I leave. I’m upfront.
But back to Wanda.
She’s sucking my cock like she’ll never get a cock afterwards—because she never fucking will.
“Oh God, Elijah, your cock is so fucking big,” Wanda moans. “Bethany would be so mad.”
And there you have it, folks.
Wanda is getting married, but not to a fucking dude.
If she goes through with it, this is literally the last cock she’s ever going to have in her mouth.
Ever.
So why not go out having the fucking best?
You know you would.
All happily comfortable in your little blanket as you read this? Or maybe out in public because you’re a bad girl and you like getting wet with people around you? Oh yeah, baby, I know your type. But if you were told tonight was going to be your last blowjob ever, you would fucking find me. And drop to your knees. Your fingers would rub your pussy as you open your mouth and take me in.
I fucking guarantee it.
You sure as fuck wouldn’t want a chance to go through life missing my 12 inches of pussy pleasing lust muscle.
And apparently, neither does Wanda.
I put my hands on her head and start to guide her as I close my eyes.
It’s my good friend Chuck who invited me to this fucking joke of a wedding retreat of Wanda and Bethany’s, and I came here only because Chuck wanted to hit on one of the bridesmaids from the brides’ side. I was already confused as fuck which side that could be, so I didn’t even bother to ask questions, but from the moment I saw Wanda staring at me across the room licking her full lips, I knew what was going to go down.
Now, we’re at the rehearsal dinner.
Yeah, it’s risky.
But nothing adds more to the fun than this.
I even made sure we do it here in the kitchen – while the organic vegan rehearsal dinner is happening in the dining room of the fucking restaurant.
What can I say? I can’t be fucking bothered to go out of my way just for some head. Doesn’t matter who’s giving it.
Besides, a few more sucks and I’ll be done. I can already feel my balls start to tighten up and I know I’m fucking close.
I groan. This is going to be a big fucking nut. Wanda is going to remember this spectacular moment for the rest of her fucking life.
Consider it an early fucking wedding present.
And that’s when the door to the kitchen opens from the dining room.
“Surprise!” a half dozen people yell as they bring in the cake.
Holy fucking shit!
What the fuck is going on?
I see a large cake being wheeled in. That’s the fucking wedding cake. Made from fucking wheat germ and gluten free granola or whatever the fuck. Made for fucking wimp ass hippies.
What.
The.
Fuck.
Let me tell you about this cake. Fucking organic gluten and dairy free unbleached rice flour bullshit. I bet it tastes like fucking dirt.
“We thought you’d want to be the first to see the cake!” someone yells out and starts to film. “What are you doing in here anyways, Wanda?” someone else says.
See, at first people don’t realize what’s going on. The possibility that the bride would be on her knees, furiously rubbing her puss while sucking me off is incomprehensible to most normal people. So they think she’s doing what? Maybe just picking something up from the ground or some shit.
“Wait, Wanda?” someone asks.
“Wanda!” a bridesmaid (I don’t know whose) yells, pushing her thick black-framed glasses further up her nose. “Get your mouth off that cock this instant!”
Wanda moves her mouth off and the “pop” this time is almost fucking louder than ever.
“Sorry,” she wails. “I just couldn’t give up one last cock!”
She’s saying this, but she’s jerking me off and my eyes are going fucking cross-eyed.
I’m trying to keep it together in front of the thirty or so hipster assholes who are pushing in the newly arrived wedding cake into the kitchen as they stare at me in shock.
Holy fucking hell.
I’m going to cum.
The last thing I can make out is seeing Chuck and Bethany look at me in a state of horror as I give out a guttural groan.
Wanda never stops jerking me off.
I could wonder why, but I don’t.
I don’t fucking care.
Because I’m fucking cumming like a fucking racehorse.
Ropes of salty, sticky cum shoot out from my cock.
She’s still jerking me and I dimly realize that she’s aiming it.
At. The. Cake.
Fuck me. It’s one thing to get a blowjob from the bride.
But now, I swear to God, I’m cumming. And it’s landing on her cake.
But my shit is potent. I’m a strong fucking shooter.
I groan – unable to help myself – as jets of cum fly out and shoot onto the fucking five-layer wedding cake from hell.
There’s two brides in white on the top.
A cum blast to the body of one knocks it off the cake.
Let’s just say the other one is still covered in white.
Fuck.
This is fucking insane.
Eventually the cum stops shooting out. I must have emptied a fucking gallon of that shit.
Everyone is looking at me in horror as post orgasm endorphins sluice through my veins.
This shit is surreal. The silence by which these fuckers look at me.
I look back.
They’re horrified.
But you know what?
Fuck them.
I never wanted to be here anyways with these goddamn fake-cake-eating assholes I don’t even fucking know.
They want to judge me, they can fucking get in line to suck my cock.
You want to judge me?
Is it because you want to suck my cock now, too? Take all my baby batter in your mouth?
Well, maybe I’ll let you.
This silence is unreal. I lift my pants up and zip up and start to leave through the other exit as people, including Wanda, look at me in undisguised disgust and loathing. What the fuck ever.
“Let’s just call that fucking icing on the cake, shall we?” I ask as I leave their pretentious asses staring after me.
Like I said, you want to judge me?
Then do me a favor.
Give me the chance to fucking show you the real Elijah. Take you on a ride you won’t ever forget.
Only one way to do that, baby.
Turn the fucking page.