“Don’t stop…” I mutter. I can’t even hear myself say it, the sound of our bodies collapsing against one another drowning out the sound of my voice. “DON’T STOP!” I scream at the top of my lungs. Arsen doesn’t need my directions, but it just feels good to say it out loud. “Don’t stop,” I repeat a third time, the words only a whisper now. But it’s all it takes for me to come again, the fires of hell racing through my veins as they scorch every single one of my nerve endings.
Even though I’m coming my brains out, I keep pushing my hips back at him, eager to drive him to the edge of insanity. Maybe it’s the way I’m screaming, or maybe it has to do with how I keep thrusting back at him, but Arsen’s cock starts to spasm violently inside of me almost immediately.
“Cum inside of me,” I hear myself saying, his member pulsing with a vengeance as it sprays my insides with his warm cum. I stop moving now, allowing him to empty his whole load - it takes forever, his cock spasming and throbbing as an endless fountain of semen fills me up to the brim. His juices start dripping down my thighs, thick strands of it going down my legs. And still he keeps going.
I grit my teeth and move as fast as I can, taking his cock out of me and turning toward him as thick strands of cum fly everywhere. I go down to my knees in the blink of an eye, grabbing his cock and aiming it at my face - just a few seconds after that and my face is coated in his fluids, thick ropes of it on my tongue and lips. I jerk him off, moving my hand back and forth as I drain of every single drop he holds inside of him.
His spasms dying down, I slowly peel my fingers off of his cock. I lean forward, reaching for his shaft with my tongue and licking it dry as I lock eyes with him. When I’m done, he joins me on the floor, kneeling in front of me; he places his hands on my chest, smearing his cum all over me as he squeezes my tits hard. His hands slide over my soaked body easily, his own semen acting as lubricant.
“This, everyday. For the rest of our lives,” he tells me, his expression one of love and wickedness. “That’s what I want.”
“No,” I tell him, struggling to get the words out as my lungs work hard to get the air in. “That’s what I want.”
“And that’s exactly what you’ll have,” he responds, leaning toward me and laying his lips on mine. I brush my tongue against his lips, and he sucks it eagerly, cleaning it of the cum that covers it.
“I’ll hold you to that promise, Arsen.”
“You better.”
This right here… This is perfection. Happiness. And if I can have it, anyone can. Just make sure that if you want to go on a quest for a perfect man to stay away from Arsen Hawke… This man right here is mine, just mine. And I’m just his. And that’s exactly how it’s supposed to be.
Happy endings—oh, yes, they are very real.
64
Epilogue - Ashley
“Hi, I’m Tricia Loomis with Good Morning Manhattan, and today I’m at the company headquarters of Hawkelane Media Inc. where we catch up with two of New York City’s most dynamic and successful couples, Arsen and Ashley Hawke,” the news reporter says, standing in the center of the product display room.
Is it me, or is she being slightly condescending?
I’m in the product display room today of Hawkelane Media because Arsen and I are being interviewed by the television show Good Morning Manhattan regarding the runaway success of a revamped adult entertainment company.
Oh right, I may have forgotten to explain, this is one year after that evening at Del Frisco’s. In case you were wondering, my showing up actually was for the best. That’s right. I didn’t come in and ruin everything.
Actually, Mr. Mozorov couldn’t have been more understanding about it. Once he understood that Simulated Pleasures was only profitable because of me, and that I was going away, he lost complete interest in the phone sex outfit. When he realized that a majority of the profits had been created because Arsen was calling me, he also began to shy away from the industry in general. But through it all he was a very charismatic and friendly old Russian man. It was kind of surreal actually, one moment listening to him as to how he was going to bankrupt hundreds of women into sexual slavery and the next moment hearing him tell us stories of his growing up in St. Petersburg during the age of Perestroika.
But that was a year ago. Arsen and I were together. And back then, that was all that mattered. Its all that matters today, too. After that night where we were reunited, there was seriously at least a month or two where I wanted to be by his side every minute of the day. We had sex like five times a day until both of us were worn out.