Prologue: Isaac Hanson
I woke up alone, or as alone as I could be with a nine-inch hard-on big enough to choke a horse. Well, a Shetland Pony, maybe. Sometimes, the damn thing was like having an alien attached to my crotch. It pulsated and throbbed with every beat of my heart when it first awoke from its nightly slumbers.
It was hungry.
It wanted to be fed.
I imagined it growling in a phlegmy alien voice.
“Pussy… Ice… feed me pussy… now…”
I yawned as I pushed up onto my elbows and forced my eyes to open. I felt the bed beside me. The sheet was cold. Was last night just a dream? Was she really here with me all night long? Doing all those filthy little things we did to each other or was it all just a filthy little dream?
I grabbed the pillow next to mine and pressed it to my face and inhaled deeply. Unless dreams left the sweet scent of Chanel No. 5 on the pillow and the pungent aroma of sex on the sheet, it was no dream.
She was here.
I didn’t imagine it all.
Everything we did, the hours we spent exploring each other’s bodies, touching, kissing, licking, sucking, fucking…
It was all real.
And it was fucking magnificent.
I tossed the pillow aside and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I gave my cock a few strokes to pacify it and sat looking around the room. Her clothes were on the floor where I’d stripped them from her perfect body the night before. My clothes were in a pile next to hers. I could see my boots and her high heels littered in the hallway outside the bedroom door.
The early morning sun was filtering through the smoked glass in the French doors that led out to the second-floor balcony, bathing the room in a warm wash of light that would have been romantic if I hadn’t been alone.
I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and groaned as I got to my feet, then paused to stretch my arms toward the ceiling. My spine popped a little as I stretched, a faint reminder of my hard playing days on the MIT rugby team.
Or was it a reminder of last night; a sexual hangover that had my entire body in need of a good steam and hot shower. Jesus, I was just forty-years-old, but I reckoned that my years as a sexual Olympian were behind me now.
Too many nights of back room quickies and drunken missionary positions and easy fucking had taken their toll. That was just one advantage of being an eligible, well-hung, good-looking billionaire. Women offered themselves to me like desserts on a tray. I didn’t have to work for pussy anymore. It was just there. Always there. Mine for the taking. I didn’t have to work for it anymore. I’ll have you and you and you and…
Easy pussy had made me soft.
After last night’s gymnastics—and the promise of many more nights to come— maybe it was time to get back in real fucking shape.
I chuckled as I yawned.
Sometimes the shit my brain came up with just cracked me up.
I cocked my ear toward the master bathroom door and listened for a moment. A smile came to my face when I heard her… humming.
Yes, she was humming.
Happy people hum.
Satisfied women hum.
My cock twitched as if saying, “Go get her, you stupid fuck!”
“Patience, ET,” I said quietly, giving my balls a nice scratch as I padded across the heated carpet to the bathroom door. I pressed my ear to the door and listened for a moment.
She was humming a song I knew but couldn’t place. It made me smile. Fuck, everything this woman did made me smile. I quietly turned the handle, found it unlocked, then pushed the door open to reveal a sight that nearly took my breath away. I’d had a lot of beautiful, naked women in this bathroom, but none like her.
She was standing at the sink with a towel wrapped around her wet hair and nothing else. Her perfect body was dotted with little drops of water as if meticulously placed there by a great artist.
The large bathroom was still steamy from the shower. She was on her tiptoes, leaning in toward the mirror, brushing her lashes with mascara. Her big breasts hung heavy on her chest; so round and milky smooth, her nipples in the mirror, hard and pink from the steaming shower.
The muscles in her toned legs were tight. Her round ass was sticking out, facing me, open for business, baby. I couldn’t help but lick my lips at the sight of her pink twat and puckered little asshole.
“Good morning,” I sighed, moving in close behind her and sliding my hands around her waist. She leaned back into me and pressed her wet shoulder blades to my chest and put her arms around my neck. She turned her head so that I could press my lips to hers. We both had morning breath but neither of us cared.
My hands went immediately to her melon tits.
I squeezed her pink nipples until they turned dark red between my fingers.
She moaned at the sweet pain and wiggled her ass against me.
I bent my knees so my long cock could slide in between her legs.
I could feel the heat of her pussy on the top of my shaft as her lips molded over the shaft and the head of my cock slid across her clit.
I groaned in her ear as my hands slid down her flat stomach, across her shaved mound, my fingers meeting at her clit, rubbing gentle circles along the sides, feeling it harden between my fingertips, as I worked my hips back and forth.
She cooed at me in the mirror and pushed her round ass against me.
She told me to fuck her from behind while we watched in the mirror.
I smiled and dug my fingers into her hips.
I swear I heard my cock give a happy sigh.
What a great way to start the day…