Hardworking Rich: Xtra Days

Angelo is "getting attached."

"Hey, I think I'm going to stay up here a bit and work the business. The orders have risen between Virginia Beach and Williamsburg, and if that's happening then baby, this is a time I do not want to miss out on big deals," I told Brian.

"So buddy has you hooked, doesn't he," Brian asked.

In slight shame, I admitted so.

"You can stay the extra time, but you missed an entire family trip just to get some cock. You should feel a certain way about it, but I won't get in the way of business either," he said.

I wasn't in the mood for Brian's "speech." I sacrificed a lot so the family could go to the Maldives, for I forked the majority of the bill due to guilt. Hell, when other businesses from cousins, nieces or nephews struggled, I shuttled money into their business accounts to keep things afloat. Surely me missing one trip wouldn't kill anything.

"Be a little less selfish next time," Brian said.

I paid him no mind in a response to that. I had needs, three weeks passed since the day I landed in Norfolk, and I was still there, camping between his house, and our condo on the beach.

"Just how good is the dick, Angelo," Brian asked.

"Let's just say Brandon could've gotten my hand in marriage if he wanted, needed it," I said in jest.

Anyone would laugh at that statement, but Brian, as he was a little upset. To be real, the way Brandon made me feel, how sexy I saw myself when his big hands were transferring jolts through my body. No one, and I mean no one, could do that the way he did.

"He probably fucked you so good you couldn't pee straight," Brian joked.

"As a matter of fact.......," I said in response.

"Figuratively speaking bitch, for you don't have a real live pussy," he said, laughing at my sarcasm.

Me and this young fella owed each other nothing, but it felt right being his submissive bitch just a little longer, being at his beck and call when he needed that dick serviced properly. I just had to reaffirm with Brian that Brandon truly was no threat to our relationship, for I still deeply loved the man that grew with me over the years: just a side piece was hanging in my head, rent-free.

Handle yours, love you, and see you soon," Brian advised, giving me the green light of extra time.

I needed to let Brandon know, too.

"However number of loads you want me to swallow, I'll do it. You want to piss on my scalp and call it shampoo, then do it. You wanna fuck my ass until its swollen shut, then fuck my ass. Just let me be your bitch," I told Brandon after the last of four times he fucked me on the recent visit.

I swore to him no one else could do him like me, and vice versa.

The business itself was surely was booming in the Hampton Roads area, as I still had to make the time count by further expanding advertisement, taking day trips to places like Richmond or the Northern Virginia corridor facing Washington D.C. to make things happen. I ultimately wanted to take over Virginia as the top chef caterer, a task in itself since there were so many embedded in the "State of Lovers."

"Hey there, love. I'm going on another trip. You should join me," was the usual text I sent the night before, and the morning of the times I'd hit the road. I usually hit the road in the wee hours, and would come back in the later afternoon, early evening time frame, with expectation that Brandon would want to break me off. I mentioned having lunch with potential clients or to lock down contracts, having the chance to rub elbows with folks with money, but he was really only interested in one thing:

"Ion give a fuck about no deals, unless it involves this dick in your mouth," he'd say.

"What if I was giving you some pussy after the deal was made, or maybe you and another guy could take turns? Would that sway you to take some leave from work and ride with me," I asked.

On the fifth day I remained after my original departure date back to Florida, he decided he would drive to my condo to ride with me. I blew him for his troubles that morning within five minutes, swallowing that sweet load, then hitting the road heading to Charlottesville to meet with a high dollar, potential client.

"You got me on your little business venture, huh," he asked with an attitude as we left my driveway.

The sun was still down and we barely left Virginia Beach as he was already hard again.

"Damn, what's it gonna take to get that thing to go down? Do I need to suck that thing again already," I asked him.

"No, you need to ride it this time," he said.

We just left out of James City County and were a few miles from the first rest stop, as he entertained the idea of bending me over in a bathroom stall.

"I make too much money and am too pretty to go to jail," I told him, with us both laughing.

I couldn't turn down that cock, and he knew it, so he directed me to get off at some random exit as the sun was coming up through the woods surrounding the highway.

"Where the hell you got me going," I asked.

"Relax man. I've driven up 64 a million times to go to Richmond, D.C., New York and other places. I know the area like the back of my hand," he said.

He led me a couple miles off the beaten path, and maybe another 10 miles from the highway as I was advising him we had a schedule to keep.

"If I'm about to be a murder victim, then I'm gonna jump out of this moving car, and you're on your own then, buddy," I said, nervously laughing.

He made me stop the car in this patch of woods, where there was a cabin, tucked between two hammocks and a beat up, abandoned Ford Bronco.

"Get out," he said.

I was shook, getting out thinking this fool would off me, me sweating, thinking I should've carried my scary ass back to Miami where I could be in the pool, drinking pina coladas in the safety of my own home. He stood across from me and pulled down his pants, directing me to bend over the hood of the car after I let down my britches.

"Right here, right now," I asked.

A part of me really wanted to run as this felt like a scene from some horror flick, as I wanted to just hop back into the car to drive off and leave this triple daring lunatic where he stood, but when he showed that hard prick, slapping it as it bounced up and down over his big ball sack.

"The only thing I'm gon' kill, is this my pussy," he said. "Poke that ass in the air for me."

He slid in with ease, my quivering hole pulling that meat in naturally for I'd become used to him after the off and on fuck sessions. He guided that pulsating dick into me, and gave instant orgasms as I could make as much noise as I wanted, for nature was the audience. He had his big, strong hands pulling and pushing my ass to his pelvis as he gave it deep, massaging my prostate, and beating my sphincter to submission as I was howling like a wolf.

"You need another nut, baby. Take this dick! Take it," he grunted. "Take it."

I was moaning like some slutty bitch as he punished my hole, giving it hard and deep as I loved every minute while holding on to the hood for dear life. Brandon showed me once again I didn't regret postponing my departure to Miami, as that sausage of his made me swoon with each stroke. He put his right foot on the hood and managed to get in deeper, as I swore I felt his pubic hairs, and even a little bit of skin from his balls slapping against my swollen, outstretched cunt.

"Get in that pussy, Brandon," I cried out to him.

He would leave no stone unturned in treating me as his side-of-the-road fuck boy, pulling out after a few minutes as he wanted to switch positions.

"What if someone catches us out here," I asked.

"Don't worry about that. You just keep your legs open and take this dick. Shit, I just may give it to them, too," he said.

I screamed as he continued mashing my hole, that cock head of his triggering the slushiness as I couldn't stop creaming.

"You like me punching this pussy," he asked.

I asked for it harder, and he delivered, me clenching myself trying my best to not lose it as he was savagely bashing my insides. Brandon could do no wrong when that big dick was involved, reaffirming that he needed another nut.

"Bout to spray it, here it goes," he said, shooting inside me as I felt that hot baby batter all over my tunnel.

He pulled out shortly after stretching me out on the hood, taking some of that cum he exerted and putting it in his right hand to get me off.

"Now imma jerk you off," he said to me, amazingly pushing his still-hard cock inside me as he used his own nut as lubricant.

"Gotta cum for daddy, baby. I want you stress free when we make it Charlottesville," he said to me.

I screamed to the heavens as I lost a huge load from him giving me a handjob barely five minutes later, while that dick of his was pressed inside me fully.

"Damn, that pussy feels good when you cum like that," he said, as my muscles worked themselves automatically whenever I climaxed out of my cock.

When I finished, he pulled out of me, and went into our day bag to grab some Wet Wipes, as he cleaned me up first, then himself. He helped me off the hood then grabbed hold of me, as we passionately made out.

20 minutes later, we stopped at a nearby coffee shop to grab some, then hit the road again, both of us fully satisfied as we both had a time. There was no way Brian, or anyone else could stop this train with Brandon, unless Brandon decided to cut the engine himself.