My body limp, I feel my mind trying to reboot. As I rise from the deep waters of my unconscious, I bring one memory back with me to the surface. My words to King Henry: “I want to make you cum, and I want you to do it all over me, sir. I want you to cover me with it while I’m on my knees, my mouth open wide as you fill me up.” As I open my eyes, there’s one certainty in my mind—what I told Henry, I’m going to do with Arsen. The thought somehow wakes my muscles up, and I roll down to the floor, going down to my knees at once.
My eyes lock on Arsen’s and he grins at me, sitting up on the couch as he runs one hand through his disheveled hair. Wordlessly, he goes up to his feet, my arm raising as I reach for his cock. My fingers curl around his shaft and I start to stroke him, my heart beating fast as, once again, fantasy blends with reality. This might be insane, not to mention flat out wrong, but it almost feels as if I’m with King Henry and Arsen at the same time.
“Come for me…” I whisper, looking up at him as my hand goes back and forth over his cock. “Come for me, Arsen…” His cock starts spasming against my fingers, thick white ropes of semen gushing out. Just like I pictured when talking with Henry, I open my mouth and stick my tongue out, strands of semen immediately covering it as I tilt my head back. I don’t stop stroking; I keep jerking him as he comes, his cock still spasming each time it shoots at me.
He has his eyes closed, his hands on top of my head as he opens his mouth to exhale sharply. Seeing his pleasure, I start stroking him even harder than before, wanting to empty him completely. As if he has a never-ending supply of cum inside of him, he keeps shooting; my mouth is brimming with cum, his warm juices already covering my face. He only stops cumming when I’m drowning in it, the skin on my chest glistening from the warm gooey layer that covers it.
Slowly, I peel my fingers off his cock as he finishes, his fast breathing finally slowing down. A grin on my lips, I go up to my feet and press my body against his, my cum-covered breasts rubbing against his hard pectorals. I lean in to kiss him, opening my mouth wide and allowing all of the cum I hold inside to drip down to his lips. We kiss as if we were possessed, swapping cum and rubbing it all over our naked bodies. Time becomes meaningless as we surrender to wickedness, his salty flavor blanketing both our minds.
By the time we’re done, we collapse onto the couch, sitting side by side. We look at each other, grinning as we realize the state we’re in. There’s cum coating his lips, and it’s already dripping down his chin and onto his neck; the skin on his torso is also glistening, strands of the cum that covers me imprinted there. I’m not in a better state, in fact, I’m even dirtier that he is, thick drops of cum still dripping down my face and chest.
I throw my head back against the headrest and stare at the ceiling in silence, my chest slowly rising and falling. My hand reaches for Arsen’s and I grab it, squeezing it gently under my fingers.
I can’t even begin to describe what just happened… In my mind, it’s as if King Henry and Arsen fused into one person and gave me one of the most mind-blowing orgasms I've ever had.
God, I must be going crazy.
52
Arsen
The lawyer leans in close. The smell of his cologne is an assault on my senses. I watch as he dips his sashimi in a puddle of soy sauce and wasabi, casually stirring the dark mixture with the tips of his chopsticks. "I need you to understand something about Mr. Morozov," he says. "Simulated Pleasures LLC is the only profitable phone sex operation in the entire tri-state area and he insists that he wants to buy it. He's not a patient man."
"I've told you before. I'm not interested in selling," I reply, refusing to entertain the thought. In fact, I almost can't believe we're still talking about this.
"I'm afraid he won't take no for an answer."
I wait for a moment before responding. My impulse is to tell this guy to go fuck himself, but I'm trying to stay calm and rational. I'll admit that my patience is wearing thin, and what I'd really like to do is put my fist through his teeth. As I'm thinking about the best way to respond, a waitress approaches us, bringing a sake sampler and breaking the silence. Nobu 57 has always been known for their world-renowned sake collection. I grab one of the small cups and gulp it down. It's smooth, and the sweet rice flavor lingers long past the drink itself.
"I don't envy your position. I understand that you're here representing your client and his best interests, but like I said, I'm adamant on retaining full ownership of this company."
"Tell me," he asks, "Why does a man like you—a man with a Harvard MBA and a polished business acumen under his belt, want to own a phone sex company?"