Brooke’s hook-up with English businessman Gavin McClain has led to a harsh but thrilling seduction back in his hotel suite. Now two swats into a 21st birthday spanking, with the promise of hard penetration on the other side, her celebration is about to get real.

Oh shit, oh shit. He’ll damn well split me in two …

Whack. The sound—palm hard on ass-flesh—rang in Brooke’s ears an instant before pain blossomed once more, briefly obliterating the prospect of that first angry cock-stroke. “Owww! Fuck. Three.”

How many to go? Simple mental arithmetic had been all but swatted from her mind. There were four fewer at any rate, once Gavin’s arm had whipped back and forth twice, splatting hard against her cheeks on each swing. “Ow! Ow! Shit! Four, five, six, seven … Goddamn!” She clutched hard on the mantle to help absorb the smarting, her own flushed face staring back at her from the mirror. Behind her Gavin was smiling broadly. Damn, he looked pleased with himself, blood surging no doubt to further engorge his dick on each swat.

“Having fun?”

She glared at him, before he clapped his hand forcefully to her ass-cleft and gripped. “God! Eight …” His middle finger stroked a line of liquid pleasure on her slit, all the more exquisite amid the burn of her cheeks.

“Everything plump and wet down here. Seems the birthday girl gets off on a bit of ass-abuse.”

He changed his supporting grasp from shoulder to breast and squeezed hard, whacking again twice on the tender base of her rump so that she yelped and jolted. Fuck, that hurt.

“Nine. Ten.” She swallowed a sob and breathed deeply, tensed for the imminent follow-up.

“Almost halfway. And afterwards …” Gavin’s finger teased the channel of her spine up and down from the start of her ass-crack. The hot sensation was just beginning to ebb, when …

Whack. Sharp on her flank, enough to leave a print. “Aaagh! Eleven, you fucker.” He laughed. So swearing only encouraged him then. But maybe that was what she wanted. She writhed under his touch as he fondled her tits; his spanking hand lingered about her rump, tickling and taunting.



“Good.” Whack. Whack. Alternate cheeks. Whiplash fast and scorching.

“Ohhh!” Her eyes began to well. “Twelve. Thirteen.” Whack. Same spot as seconds prior, merciless in speed and accuracy. “Ohhh god! Fourteen!” She sucked in her sob, as the pain bloomed red-hot.

“Too much? Here, let me help.” His hand relented its grasp of her well-fondled tits and plunged, skimming her mound until his middle finger found her clitoris. Not much searching was required, so swollen was it from a lust born of his torment. The fingertip rotated easily on her wet nub, palm pressed firmly to her lower belly. Her body responded instantly, loins grinding to meet his intimate touch. Gorgeousness spread through her belly and swelled her nipples to a flinty hardness. It almost made her forget the burn of her ass-flesh. “That make it better?”

“Yes. Yes, oh yes …” Whack. Sharp and unforgiving, on her already-reddened buttocks. “Fuck! Fucking ouch! Fifteen!” Then it came back to her, the touch of that steadily working finger, mitigating the cruelty of his palm. Her cries melted into keening moans, sounds she had never heard before from her own mouth. The spanks were a price worth paying for how her pussy felt right now. Bring it on you bastard.

He did, with a trio of butt-quivering thwaks—left, right and centre—as his palm moulded harder to her mound and his finger sped up on her button. “Fucking shit!” Waves of pleasure washed outwards from her clit, clashing with those of pain; each accentuating the other, the combined effect swallowing her up in exquisite sensation. “Sixteen. Seventeen. Oh god, eighteen.” She fought to control her breathing, palms clutching the mantelpiece fit to crack its marble. Her face was a mess of sweat, tears and mascara. He hadn’t been lying when he’d threatened to spoil her pristine look. God, the big-dicked fucker must be mighty pleased with his handiwork. He’d be even happier when he saw her come like a crazed bitch, which, if the amazing sensations rippling through her cunt were an indication, would not be long from happening.

Whack. She gritted her teeth against the hot sweet agony. “Nineteen.” Oh my Christ, nineteen. So close. So close to what he’d promised. Her birthday spanks counting upwards to an experience she could not even imagine. His busy finger whipping her into a froth of expectation, spanking-hand now cupping and soothing the cheeks it had so sorely inflamed. Caressing them with the tenderness of a lover, then slowing, steadying, judging with precision …

Whack. “Son of a bitch!” Right on the same spot as before. “Twenty. Oh god, twenty.”

His finger plunged inside her and her tight channel clutched it in response. She glimpsed his expression and saw the slyness in a face already clouded with lust. Yes, yes I’m fucking wet for you and you know it, you bastard. It was true. Her cunt was the sopping core of everything he was making her feel. It needed to be sopping, with what it had in store. That great beast, bobbing and twitching and brushing her hip. One hard spank was all that remained, before it invaded her.

“Ready?” His finger burrowed and squelched, the pad of his palm grating against her clit as he finger-fucked. “Ready to take me all inside you?”

Oh sweet Jesus. Oh God save me. “Yeah.”

“Is that your birthday wish?”


“To be fucked by the bad-guy? To have him fuck you hard?”

“Uh-huh. Yeah. Oh god, it so totally is.”

He pulled his finger from the suck of her slit and positioned his masculine bulk behind her, till there it was—the head of his huge extension nudging at her cunt-lips. She was already hovering on the brink of orgasm, when he guided himself beyond her lips and began to saw back and forth against her clit. So exquisite was the sensation she all but forgot the flaming of her ass-cheeks. This was too much, too close to all-consuming ecstasy. At peril of her own life she had to have him.

“Oh please, please …”

“You begging, Brooke?”

“I am, I’m begging.”

“I like that. Do it some more.”

“Please, put it in me. Put it fucking in me, as far as it’ll go. I’m begging you.”

“It’ll be my pleasure. Once we’ve finished our count.” He completed it himself, his features darkening with ferocity. “Twenty-one, plus one for luck.”

His fingers grappled her shoulder and his spanking arm thrashed twice, palm exploding against her flank on each blow. The action shivered her to the tits and her reflection screamed back at her in sync with the nerve-endings of her afflicted bum-cheek. Her mind and body reeled from the renewed scorching of her tender skin. Somewhere in the middle of it all she registered the adjustment of Gavin’s cock so that the head prodded against her labia. All his macho strength was poised behind it and on his face was calm, evil satisfaction. His grip on her, shoulder and hip, tightened.

“Let’s get this party started,” he said, as her cunt-lips parted under pressure. “Oh, and many happy returns.”

He thrust, his body surging in to meet hers as his cock opened her wide. She gasped in response to being filled with so much so suddenly—and knew he was nowhere close to packing it all in. How pleased he looked at her wide-mouthed reaction, lips stretched as comically as when he’d had his dick between them. This time it was hard and pulsing in her cunt.

“That’s it,” he said with grim delight, extending the moment for dramatic effect, then drawing back and plunging deeper. “There it is, right where it should be.” He clutched her firmly and began pumping, getting her used to the sensation of being stretched out by that testing girth, ramming the length gradually further.

She clutched the mantle and fixated on his tight thrusting presence inside her, the friction of his shaft against her slippery walls. There he was—look at him—the charming man from the bar, owning her naked body with that steel grip, stripped to his muscular glory and shunting the first of a hard fuck inside her. Oh my god! Oh my fucking god, I’m coming! The stored-up orgasm burst with such ferocity she thought it would shatter her cunt. She spasmed around him, as though trying to capture the cock that ploughed her. Her throat gave vent to an unhinged ecstasy. Fuck—fuck— he was speeding up his strokes as she shuddered wildly on him, squelching deeper as her body’s response lubricated his progress.

“That’ll do the trick,” he was saying. “Now let’s get it all in there.” He shafted with vigour through an extended climax that fried her whole body. When she came out of it, trembling and twitching, his presence inside her was more massive than ever—thick and rigid and scarily deep. Christ, surely he’d shoved the whole of it up there by now!

It turned out not to be so, and Gavin was hell-bent on doing the job right. His sawing was hearty and regular, his grip tight. “You know,” he said, a rigid set to his jaw, “I was going to pick up some haughty New York socialite tonight, strip her of all her pretentions and bang her into a slutty heap. I’d forgotten how much enjoyment there is to be had training up a fresh young girl’s inexperienced cunt. I’m glad you swallowed your nerves and came hitting on me.” For all the duress under which he was putting her sex, she was glad of it too and moaned incoherent appreciation at the sentiment. “Now relax,” he whispered, with a tenderness that alarmed her. “Time to go really deep.”

He launched a stroke that inched deeper than anything Brooke had imagined possible and held it there. A plaintive whimper uttered from her throat, but she was too turned-on and mind-blown to care about the pain of his probing. He withdrew a little and thrust again, emphasizing his presence. “There we are. Balls-deep, like I promised—all I have inside the birthday girl.” The proof of his words nestled against her sore ass-cheeks.

“Oh god,” she moaned in piteous wonder. “That’s a whole lotta cock.”

He laughed and it gratified her to have pleased him, to have flattered that big fat pulsing ego. “You’re a good sport, Brooke,” he said, as the pumping motion recommenced inside her, his glans finding her core on each thrust. “It’s giving me a lot of pleasure to be rammed this far inside you.” He began taking that pleasure to the full, increasing in force and fluidity, driving it into her so that her body jolted rhythmically to the repeated filling of her cunt. “You do want to provide me with pleasure, don’t you?”

“God yes, I do …”

“Make me feel good even though I’m so bad.”

“Yes.” Because you’re so bad. How fucked-up was that? Fucked-up and oh so hot.

“Well that’s just one more reason to like you, isn’t it?”

He reached around with one hand and molested her breasts some more, palming them turn-about in firm squishing handfuls as he fucked. His cock sustained its hard attentions some minutes further, testing the elastic limit of her cunt, forcing the breath from her body every time she gathered it. “Of course,” he remarked, having provided her with a formidable stretching, “I’ve got to remind myself that this isn’t all about me. It’s your celebration after all. So what do you say we add to the fun?”

“I … I …” She couldn’t imagine how they might do that.

Gavin extracted his cock, though her channel clung wetly to every inch, reluctant to give it up for all its abuse. Then she was grasped by the crook of her elbow and led stumbling into the centre of the suite’s sitting-room, her voided pussy aching in more ways than one. “Stand there. Don’t move,” he said, and before she could think what alternatives were available, he had snatched her discarded tights from the floor and was binding her wrists tightly, skilfully, behind her back. “Not always my shtick, but it seems appropriate to the occasion. Girl like you needs her expectations stretched along with her cunt. There—no getting out of that. Not that you’ll want to, you naughty bitch.”

He was right. By now Brooke was down with any plan this fucker had. Her heart was pumping with added force at the knotting-together of her arms and when he propelled her towards the window-frame, cardio-vascular excitement only increased. He as good as threw a mock-antique chair out of the way and pinned back the heavy velvet drapes at both sides, exposing her to the cityscape in all its neon glory. Then he pushed her naked body close to the glass, bent her over and pressed his cock-head to her puffed and ready gash.

“Hell of a town, right?” he was saying. “I know I’m the tourist, but come on—look at that view. Take a good look.”

Fingers clamped like they were ironclad on her shoulder, then all the lights went blurry as he delivered the first stroke. No incremental penetration second time around; he speared her in a single mighty thrust, her cunt expanding to swallow his length and girth. She yelled loud enough to wake whatever souls slept in the city that never did.

“Brooke’s a big girl now,” he said, slapping his other hand to her tender groin as he embarked on a new more punishing session of shafting. And all Manhattan’s going to see it. The pretty naked slut trussed up and fucked from behind. I’d take you to my club and fuck you on stage, but you’re on display to a whole city now. So fucking enjoy your moment.”

She had no idea if a soul could see her, but gave herself up to the fantasy nonetheless, imagining cabbies, vendors, couples and late-night office employees watching her tits shiver and her body jolt. They’d see the suave irresistible brute clutching her and guess at how much cock he was ramming up inside on every thrust. It’s a lot, people, it’s a whole damn lot!

His groin was whacking into her like another birthday count as he repeatedly buried himself. And the pad of his finger had located her clit again, at just the right moment. How delicious the ordeal to which she’d submitted herself—she wouldn’t have cared if the city knew.

“You are enjoying it, aren’t you girl?” her beautiful persecutor remarked. “Every damn second. Christ, you’re a slippery bitch. Your juice is leaking all over my balls.” She didn’t doubt it, from the sense of a wet sucking each time he plunged, though the impending climax was threatening to blot all else from her mind. Oh god, here I go again. Oh fuck, I’m going to come for him, on him, all over him …

He knew it, for his fingers strummed a frantic blur on her clitoris, cock still pumping. What perfect timing this man had. She burst, hell she fucking effervesced—Gavin’s bound bitch juddering and wailing as her cunt anointed his deep-thrusting dick all over again. Had any girl known a birthday happier than this one?

Brooke was still reeling from orgasm two when Gavin made another slurping-wet exit from inside her. He whirled her giddily around and put her on her knees before she had time to register his intentions. “Clean-up duties. Get busy.” Even in her disoriented frame of mind it was no chore—hard cock garnished with her own sweet juice. Her lascivious tongue set to work and washed him down from glistening tip to balls that were sticky with girl-cum. And every magnificent inch in between. She kissed the underside when she was done and stared up at him with faux meekness.

“Bad man pleased with his good girl?”

Her own audacity shocked her. It also earned a reward. Her ‘bad man’ laughed once more and cupped her face with his hand, before reversing their positions—lifting her to her feet and dropping to his knees. She squealed and wobbled as his tongue thrust, but was prevented from falling by a double-handed grabbing of her ass. Still a mass of post-orgasmic sensitivity, she squeaked and moaned, tits thrusting, bound hands clenching, as he feasted on her dripping, swollen sex.

He repaid her thoroughness, tongue-tip flicking artfully over her clit and labia, lapping at her thighs, along with its protracted interior delving. Then he proved even more assiduous, twirling her around and parting her cheeks, so that all of her wetness could be lapped up. Her hands twitched in response to the flicker of his tongue-tip on her anal star, but the bonds prevented her from clutching and massaging her nipples like she desired. Instead she teetered on her heels, fingering tufts of Gavin’s hair as he squeezed her cheeks and lapped hungrily between them. The succulent goings-on in that impossibly intimate region brought her close to passing out.

“Call that an additional present,” he told her once he’d left off the exquisite torture and climbed her body, still-wet cock brushing her leg as he rose. “You bring out my magnanimous side.” Her captor drew her tight to him and kissed her, his resolutely hard organ pressed vertical between them. “There. Now let’s put you to work again.”

Brooke had gone beyond anxiety at his declarations of intent. They simply excited her now. On being guided roughly towards the bedroom section of the suite, she thrilled to the promise of a new development. Gavin sat himself on the bed, erection thrusting, and drew her after him, gripping her tightly by her stocking-snagged arms. “I’ve fucked you, now you’re going to fuck me right back. Sit that tight pussy down on this cock and get busy.” He gripped himself by the base to facilitate her.

Once more her breath stalled, the evening’s wild eroticism overtaking her. Kneeling astride his unwavering tower, she manoeuvred herself so that the head squidged against her entrance. It was up to her this time and with his expectant gaze consuming her from where he lay, she couldn’t balk. I can take you, Mr goddamn Big, just you watch … She took the head inside herself and tensing her hips and ass for control kept going—descending inch after inch, her head swimming with deliciousness as her walls were pushed wide once more.

Inches still remained at the base she knew, when she slowed to a stop and made her plea. Words came with the utmost difficulty anytime she had him stuffed inside her. “It’d really help if you’d undo my wrists, Gavin. I could do so much more for you.” Her pussy spasmed around him as she said it. To be bold with this man, even while offering to be the best little fuck-slut she could, aroused the hell out of her. “I mean,” she proceeded, tautening her thighs and pumping on him slowly, “I can do some of this, but if you’d be so kind …” Through all her body was feeling, she managed her best good-girl lip bite.

“Since you’re so eager to please …” He sat up to help her out, arms wrapping her as he unknotted the bindings. The head of his cock pressed against her rear cunt-wall as he squeezed close and she gasped at the renewed ache. “I’m very indulgent with you, Brooke. I hope you appreciate that.”

“I do. Oh I do.” Her lips were inches from his cruel mouth, yet she was not quite brave enough to kiss it spontaneously this time. She revelled in his hot breath, the beaded sweat on his upper lip and the clutch of his arms as he unloosed her. What luxury to flex her palms, to slide them once more over his shoulders and pectorals. “Lie back,” she breathed, teasing his ridged nipples with her nails and grinding on him gently. “I want to make you feel good.”

“Is that so?” He lay, arms spread crucifix-wide, an ‘impress me’ taunt on his lips. She bent over him in all his lazy arrogance, hands clutching the scarlet bedspread either side of his head, knees digging into the bedding too, and moving herself up and down on him. God, to massage that great fat pole with her own stretched-out interior—what a big-girl she was now. He could have gone home with anyone in that bar, but the sexy fucker had chosen her. He wanted to have his cock enclosed within her like this, to have her working it—slowly up and down—with her cunt. To have her gliding on him so smoothly, however tight a fit he might be.

See? I can take you on. I can be what you need.

“You like that? Is that nice for you?” The words came out between short pants of breath. She pressed into the bedding and glided back and forth on him.

“I like it, Brooke.” His voice was a low growl. “It’s very … sweet. Now give me some dirty.”

Damn. Well of course he was going to play it like that. Brooke deepened her push down onto him, her eyes closing in aching response to the increased volume she was taking inside. She ran her tongue-tip across her upper lip and pushed one-handed into the covers so she could clasp and squeeze a breast, both for herself and for his visual entertainment. “You want a dirty girl? Do you? I’ll be your dirty girl.”

How she wanted to make good on that promise. Placing palms on his chest, she pushed her upper body tall and thrust out her tits, rotating her pelvis on him, so that his dick massaged her cunt. She hoped it was as fucking awesome a sensation for him as it was for her. God, she hoped she looked as hot and slutty as she felt. “How’s that, Mister? You like me moving on you like this? Gonna get you all prepped for your meeting? Let me be your hot little secretary?” She clenched at her nipples and sucked on her fingers, entranced by her own audacity and the huge shaft on which she was grinding.

“Well,” he said with a reassuring edge of enjoyment, “you are very good at taking dictation. Take it deeper though.”

She leaned low again, elbows digging into the bedspread either side of him, tits in his face, loving that he had referenced her fantasy. “I’ll take it however you want me to take it, boss.” After a deep breath she eased herself further inches towards his base, then established a slick up-and-down motion, contracting around him for added effect. “Anytime you like, anywhere you like. I’ll be the best employee you’ve ever had.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. I’ll get you so relaxed before your meeting, you’ll breeze it.” His late-night shadow scratched gorgeously against her breasts. “All that tension will be gone, I promise. I promise.”

His laugh was low and hoarse in the back of his throat, a harbinger of soaring lust. “Oh I’ll be relaxed alright, little secretary. I’ll make damned sure my tension will be gone. Why do you think I fucking employed you?” His arm clamped like an iron band across Brooke’s back and it occurred to her, if only briefly, that when you teased a man like the one whose cock she was currently riding, there were consequences to be accepted.

Slamming-hard consequences.

Gavin pulled her tight to him and gave her all he had. He gave it fast and rough, pelvis ramming it inside her so that her body shook on every impact. She cut loose with a stream of mad cries, some inarticulate, some imploring the aid of a deity, as that colossal dick ploughed her. When she sucked in breath there it was, the rapid-fire slap of his groin on her ass, her already soundly-thrashed ass, sinking himself to the uttermost limit on every stroke. And his words to her—savage and fervent, James Bond cool giving way to base gratification. “That’s it, birthday girl, take it deep. Take it all. That’s the way.” His free hand clutched the ass it had recently warmed and pulled her even tighter, as his cock shafted to her core over and over. “You weren’t expecting this when you set out tonight, were you? Were you, girl?”

“No. No. I wasn’t. Oh god. Oh shit. Oh … Oh fuck.”

“Fuck. Yes, fuck is right. Fuck hard. Let me see you, birthday girl, let me see you fuck hard.” He grabbed her ass two-handed now and gunned her more. What other way but hard could she fuck? She peered over her shoulder and marvelled at how frantically he was pounding her, the extent to which her body was being dominated by this great man and his cock-to-match. That refined voice was animal in her ear, as he took her. “Come on, girl, work that cunt. Let me feel you. This is your coming-of-age, right? So work it.”

He pushed her back up with one hand around her throat, the other mauling her tit. “Come on, birthday girl, you haven’t had any dancing tonight, so let’s see you dance on this cock.” He surged upwards and she danced crazily on him, hands clutching his shoulders, flecks of spit flying from her mouth as she cried aloud. For a moment he eased off to catch his breath, then it was full-on shafting again, the hand on her breast moving to insert fingers in her mouth and clutch her lower jaw.

“That’s it, little birthday bitch,” he said, driven by a lust now beyond control. “Dance for me. Dance the fucking night away. Let’s see those tits fucking move.” His grip on her throat was firm but controlled, that on her jaw much tighter. Every molecule in her being was agitated, subjected to a barrage of screwing she had only contemplated in her wildest moments of fantasy. I’m a fuck-doll. I’m a fucking fuck-doll …

He slowed and so did her body, but she knew it wasn’t time to rest. Not yet. “Get off me and lie on the bed,” he instructed and she prised herself messily from the huge cock her cunt had finally accepted in its entirety. Panting and sweating she laid herself down beside him, eyes all over his similarly perspiring form, watching for his next move. Without conscious thought her fingers had already scrambled for her clitoris.

“God, you big fucker, you still not done with me?” It was half self-pity, half challenge. How she was still capable of the latter she wasn’t sure.

Gavin parted her legs and guided one thigh, folding it up and across her chest so that her lower half was side-on, her pussy splayed. “Not yet, Brooke,” he said, a hint of the former smile glancing across his face. He knelt at the junction of her legs and brought his cock to her cunt. “Not quite yet.”

With exquisite slowness he thrust, hands pressing down on her buttock and thigh as the long reinstatement of his cock inside her was completed. “There,” he said, all his muscled weight bearing down on her. “How deep is that?”

“Oh god … Deep,” she moaned. So, so deep. So thick. So fucking beautiful.

“Now you keep your eyes fixed on mine till I’m done, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I will.”

It wasn’t a problem. Where else could she look as he commenced another gloriously savage fucking, than into those dark eyes, fierce with intent? His knee levered into the bed and he gripped her, ass and thigh, his cock plunging, searching and driving to that sweet spot so deep inside her. His body towered magnificently above her, sweat matting his body hair and giving his musculature a gorgeous sheen. The face that had softened with charm and humour was set hard again with stony intent. All civility was stripped away leaving only the beast—and the beast shafted recklessly, concerned with nothing beyond selfish pleasure and egotistical demonstration. Feel it, his eyes were saying. Feel me own your ass.

“Having a happy birthday?” God, it was a wonder he could fuck so hard and still form coherent speech. With his repeat slamming into her she could barely manage a syllable.

“Ye-e-s-s-s…” If my pussy survives it.

“Sing it.”

“Wh- What?”

“Sing yourself happy birthday.”

Crazy hard-fucking bastard. She knew from the glare on his sweat-soaked face that he meant it, so she tried. Anything for this gorgeous shit-heel. “Happy birthday to me …” Oh my fucking god, I’m gonna pass out. “Happy birthday to me.” She could only gasp out the words, racked as she was with mighty fuck-strokes. “Happy birthday dear Broo-ooke … Oh shit … Fuck … Happy birthday t – toooo meeeee.”

“Good girl. Good fucking girl. Now I’ve got a present to deliver right inside you.”

It was there in his face, in his tensed body, in the urgency of his pumping. His joy was assured. Brooke’s pussy responded to the realisation and she thought she might come again without fingers or lips upon her. “Oh yeah. Do it. Shoot it inside me. Get yourself off inside me.” So dirty and wanton. Such a bad girl. “Come inside me, please …”

She watched his face transform, as he reached his crescendo, into a clench-jawed roar of fulfilment. His fingers tightened on her thigh enough to bruise and his cock jammed hard, but she gloried in his raging ecstasy. Deep inside her was the pulse and spasm as he opened and flooded her with his hot essence. Oh god … All inside me, all inside. Thank fuck I’m on birth control … His orgasm was extensive and he strained and shuddered like a weight-lifting Olympian till it was done. Then freed of his liquid burden, he exhaled in relief and pulled himself out of her.

“Fuck yes. It feels like my damn birthday.”

Her pussy too felt relieved, yet simultaneously bereft. Her head was sinking to the cover, eyes fluttering in weariness, when his cock arrived at her lips, sticky and leaking and still hard. “Suck the last.” She roused herself and obeyed, amazed to feel even dirtier than she already had, as his salty ooze flowed all over her tongue. I can taste him and I can taste me. God, that’s so fucking naughty.

“See? Good girl to the last,” she panted. He slid next to her and kissed her—somehow the last thing on which she’d have banked—his tongue swirling around her mouth regardless of his own seed inside there.

“Very good girl,” he said. “Deserving of one more gift.” His mouth moved on hers again, a hand softly kneading her breast. Then it was his mouth on her breast while his fingers explored her swollen cunt, bringing her back to the edge of orgasm with alacrity. He tongued her nipple and sucked, and ground his palm against her clit, fingers plundering her hole, till she peaked and thrashed under his attentions, yelling to the ceiling in a kind of mournful joy.

An unexpected gift indeed.

The climax had been wrung from an already flagging body and she subsided into the bed-cover’s embrace at its end. Where Gavin had got to she was not sure, till his voice sounded from the other side of the suite. “Can I get you something to drink?”

So he was still talking to her after. Almost like the gentleman she had thought him a whole evening ago. “Water. Just water thanks.” She lolled there until he brought her a mineral water from the minibar; then she pulled herself up and sat on the bed with her great naked hulk of a birthday defiler, letting the water cool her throat while he sipped a whiskey. God, look at him. This is the man just done fucking the hell out of me. Already it seemed unreal, though the ache in her pussy testified to the opposite.

“So,” she inquired, having chugged her bottled water, “you gonna let me stay the night, or kick me out?”

Gavin studied his whiskey as he swilled it in the glass, then knocked it back in one. “You can stay. But if you chat and keep me awake, I’ll bundle your ass into the corridor and throw your panties after you.” He smiled at her and she laughed in response, though doubtfully.

I’ll bet you’ve done that in your time to some poor girl.

“Shower time. Joining me?”

“Yeah. Yeah, in a moment.” Weariness had fallen on Brooke from being fucked the kind of silly she had anticipated, that and her earlier intake of alcohol. Delightful though the joint shower sounded, she was horizontal on the bed by the time he’d left the bedroom. The splash of water-jets on male flesh was the last thing she heard as fatigue consumed her utterly.

She woke in darkness, swathed in bedding and the same man breathing slow and deep somewhere beside her. Holy crap, I’m in bed with him. The bastard actually put me to bed. Who’d have thought? Her head was throbbing mildly, her pussy significantly more so. The realisation that she was sharing sleeping-space with him, however, overrode both sensations.

She slid from the bed and into the en suite bathroom to pee, careful not to disturb her sleeping defiler. Alone in shadow, her water trickling against the porcelain, she wondered at this unexpected circumstance. Brooke had shinnied up the beanstalk and ended bunking with the giant. It scared her still, but thrilled her more.

Having dried herself she padded to the minibar for another water, butt-naked and relishing her womanhood, however sorely gained. For a moment she pulled aside a drape and let the lights of the city bathe her once more, as it had done when he held and pounded her there for the inspection of a city. Check me out all you want—I’m a bad man’s bitch.

The villain in question was shifting in his sleep when she returned, a sheet clinging precariously about his midriff. She paused by the bedside, seized with temptation to draw back the covering so she could feast her gaze on his godlike magnificence, on the thick venous beast recumbent against his thigh. Caution restrained her. If he awoke and found the American girl stalking him, he might kick her butt out of his room like he’d threatened, that or thrash it all over again. Alternatively he might fuck her in a rage of lust and annoyance. It was an undeniably moistening prospect, but she was throbbing too much between navel and thigh to contemplate any of those possibilities. Deftly she slipped back under the covers and tried to settle. The proximity of her iron-bodied seducer made for uneasy slumber.

Dawn light was pooling on the thick carpet when she came fully conscious. She rolled over to see broad back and muscled buttocks rising from the bed. Gavin swung one-eighty and stood full-on, palming his newly erect cock. No—she hadn’t imagined how huge and strong it was.

“Morning hard-ons are a bastard when there’s a meeting to attend,” he said. “Lucky I’ve got you here.” He cast her a backward glance as he strolled to the en suite. “Come on. Get your naked self in the shower with me, or I’ll spank you awake. I haven’t got all day.”

Oh god, here we go again. Brooke tumbled blearily from bed and hurried to the wet room where hot jets were already ricocheting off Gavin’s frame. He turned to face her, snapping open the gel and commencing to soap his torso, phallus thrusting implacable and demanding from his groin. “Happy un-birthday, Brooke. What are you waiting for? I don’t want this tenting my trousers while I’m mid-negotiations today, so get in here.”

Brooke quailed before his cock. She didn’t think she could take it so deep again. “Gavin, I’m … I’m a bit sore.”

“Are your hands sore? Or that pretty mouth?” He stared levelly, the scattering of dark hair on his chest and stomach matting as his palms soaped in circles.

Brooke smiled, heart and pussy warming as she went to him.

It was like she came fully awake on her knees the morning after her twenty-first birthday, lathering a huge erection that pulsed hard against her touch. Water fired from a dozen directions exploding against her skin, but all her focus in that torrent of wetness was on pleasuring Gavin, the bastard with the hot Brit accent.

“That’s it, Brooke. Good girl. You know what to do, you’re a natural.” He was washing his hair, suds sluicing down his chest and over his stomach, foaming around the base of his extension. His voice was reserved, but his dick bulged fiercely. She pumped it smooth and even with long strokes, tickling the ball-sac with her tongue, watching the skin stretched taut over an etching of thick dark veins. She kissed the shaft and cradled his balls, squeezing and tugging, persisting in the regular jacking motion. Once tumbling water had rinsed him of soap, she stretched her lips around the fat head and sucked on it rhythmically, sustaining her manual attentions. Her left hand slithered downwards and attended to her escalating arousal as she sucked and stroked.

As she wanked that big British dick.

“That mouth really has come of age,” he said, a familiar rawness in his voice. His hand closed on her head. “Come on, Brooke, keep going. Suck it out of me like a good girl. And don’t even think of coming first, you little slut.” So he knew in all his gathering excitement that her fingers were frantic between her own legs. She slowed and gave her concentration to him, till his hand pressed heavier and his balls clenched beneath her pumping fist. “Here we go. Don’t you miss a drop.”

With that, he blew his load.

Shit! Inundation. Sheer cheek-bloating inundation, hard-pumped cum squirting out of the corners of her mouth even as she began to gulp him down. Damn—drops missed. She filled up no sooner than she’d swallowed, losing count of how many times. Finally he abated and she drank his last, tongue twirling in a clean-up mission.

“See? I even provide breakfast.” God, the bastard had promised room service a long time ago. Whatever had happened to that? Still, she wasn’t complaining, and felt even less inclined to do so with the personal servicing that followed.

Gavin hooked his fingers under her arms and dragged her up, the other hand diving between her legs. “Now let me finish that off.” Brooke went rigid as his finger-pads mashed on her clit. His sperm was still trickling from her chin and sliding hot down her throat. She burst into wild orgasm, squirming and squealing in his tight grip. She was all wetness—shower water drowning her body, while juice gushed from between her thighs, her sore cunt racked with the other kind of throb. The good kind. When she was done she buckled and slumped, but he bore her up till she could lean against him panting. “Go on, tell me I’m not a gentleman.”

“I guess you are,” she gasped, wilting into his frame. Then he pressed a wash-rose in her hand, gave her a stinging wet slap on her bum cheeks and shoved her aside to the tiles.

“Okay. Sponge that ass of yours and make it fast. I’ve got work to do and I need you gone.”

She stood breathless and bereft in the wet-room, the jets washing her clean of cum and last night’s mascara.

He was semi-dressed by the time she emerged towelling her hair, ensconced on the bed before a laptop spreadsheet. She gathered her crumpled clothes, ignoring the ruined tights. “So …” She hardly cared, this grown-up girl, if she sounded sulky. “… You going to fuck her too?”

“Fuck who?” His eyes did not leave the screen.

“Whoever’s threatening to give you a boner at your meeting.”

“What? Oh, Karmen … I’d certainly like to. Her fiancé might have something to say though.”

“Never stopped you before, has it?”

“No. No, it hasn’t.” He sounded amused.

Jealousy writhed within Brooke’s belly and she wanted to slap herself that it was there at all. She searched out her remaining scattered belongings and struggled into her heels. There were texts and a voicemail on her cell from poor Stacey. She owed her friend an explanation and a lunch somewhere nice. The other two girls could whistle if they wanted an apology, especially Kimber.

“Well,” she said as casually as she could manage, “I guess I’ll be making my own way out.”

Gavin looked up at last from his work. “Oh, I called you a taxi.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. Under McClain. Charged to my account. It’ll be outside in ten minutes.”

“Wow.” She was surprised. “Mr Big-talk. Maybe you’re not as bad as you pretend.”

He laughed, briefly and loudly, like it was the funniest thing she could have said. “You’re right. I’m a nice guy really and you’re the only soul in the world who knows.” The words made her flush with embarrassment and she was a girl all over again. “Seriously, Brooke, I like you. You were fun.”

“But I’m not the birthday girl anymore, so get the fuck out?”

He rose from the bed, went to her and kissed her on the lips. A moment of something intangible and delicious passed between them. She was sure of it. “Now,” he said, resting a finger gently on her chin, “get the fuck out.”

On the way out of the Plaza she checked her cell phone properly; it was full of messages from Stacey, her friend’s voice becoming more fraught with concern as the communications progressed.

Brooke called and Stacey replied within a couple of rings, her voice muddled with sleep and alcohol. “Brooke? Where the hell did you get to? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Thank God! I’m so mad at you!” Stacey’s anger surfaced through the girl’s cloudy mental state.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you with the terrible twosome all night.”

“Not that … I can cope with Kimber and Leandra. I didn’t know what had happened to you, that guy could have done anything!”

Brooke could not help her response. “Oh god, Stace, he totally did.”


“Not in a bad way.” Although try telling that to my butt-cheeks. “Look, I’m okay. Go sleep. Call me later and I’ll buy you lunch—I owe you. Plus I want to tell you the whole story.”

“Damn, you’d better buy me lunch.” Stacey sounded mollified. “And the story better be a good one.”

“Oh it is. Believe me.”

“Well then I’m glad you had a slutty birthday. Although I hope you at least found out his name, dirty girl …”

Minutes later Brooke stood kerbside, the grandeur of the New York Plaza and the hard-fucking night of her life both behind her. “Gavin.” She murmured it under her breath. Her pussy and ass were sore from his cock and his palm respectively, her belly still awash with his cum.

“Cab for McClain?” the cabby asked, leaning out to her.

“What? Yeah. McClain.” She eased herself gingerly into the back of the vehicle and shut the door.

Charge that to Gavin McClain. Bastard—and goddamn sexy motherfucker. Brooke settled her tender twenty-one-years-plus-one-day-old ass on the back seat, hugged herself and smiled.

What a lot of growing up a girl could do in one night—providing of course she had the right company.

The End

Gavin returns in Extra-Curricular

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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