The Cock Star & The Cuckquean Ch. 01

"You know who I am. Why don't you introduce yourself?" Samson finally told her. "Anaïs," she answered him with not a little annoyance at having lost their standoff. The blonde proceeded to introduce the rest of her sexy clique. Samson created a mental dossier for each woman and filed it away in his head for later use.

Babe #1: Olivia had the body of a jezebel but the smile of an angel. She still wore her top that but likely would lose it by the second flute of champagne. At a regulation 36-24-36, she easily made the cut for Samson's bed.

Babe #2: Lola shaved her pussy. She could not have worn a thong like that even with a Brazilian wax. The rest of her was equally delectable. The little minx gave off a Eurasian vibe: thin-boned, smooth skin, and twinkling green eyes. She did not hesitate to make eye contact with him and her pout turned to a smile when their gazes met. Of course, she stared at his crotch most of the time. And that sight inspired an even wider grin. Samson sensed she was one of those girls who would do anything for his cock.

Babe #3: Celine styled her dark hair in a Bettie Page that matched her black one-piece swimsuit. The Ibiza sun did not suit her pale skin so she took shelter in the shadiest part of the canopy. However, her spot also allowed her to maintain maximum distance from Samson's chair. Of the four women he would seduce, she'd probably hold out the longest.

"Celine, Olivia, Anaïs, Lola..." Samson quietly repeated all four of their names to himself a few times. Memorization had never been his strong suit. However, the ladykiller would look boorish if he mixed up their names after they fucked. Meanwhile, Ava made small talk. As he expected, the four of them hung out together at the university. The students were on vacation and "looking for some fun."

"How much fun can you handle?" queried Samson as he shifted his legs to reveal the giant pouch of his swimsuit. The superstud could not see Anaïs' eyes widen behind her sunglasses but he felt her gaze devouring him. Still, the conversation flowed easily as the champagne. Soon, Anaïs' girlfriends also shed their tops. They sprawled out underneath the canopy and continued to flirt with the well-hung playboy. Within 20 minutes, Ava "accidentally" spilled a little champagne on Ava's lounge chair. Being a gentleman, Samson invited Anaïs to share his double-wide lounge chair while his attendants wheeled in a replacement. And fully aware of where such a proposition might lead, she virtually leapt on top of him.

The attendants never brought a replacement chair for Anaïs but they supplied more bottles of Cristal to keep the mood light and bubbly. All this time, Samson's sexual clock was ticking. He couldn't be near a woman for more than an hour before making a move. Samson wanted Anaïs here and now. And he knew no girl would refuse him.

The rest of the beach was no longer pretending not to stare at them. They knew better than to bother Samson directly of course. Though not violent in temperament, the bodybuilder possessed an intimidating appearance. Not even the biggest bouncers would fuck with him at a club if he got wild. However, onlookers had no problem snapping photos of their party. The Internet was already saturated with such shots but Samson wanted to protect Anaïs' privacy.

Samson nodded to Ava. She motioned for the attendants. They rarely spoke to their employer directly but he valued them. Samson always retained at least six of them in his entourage to keep stalkers and obnoxious fans at bay. Though not literal eunuchs in his harem, they were very gay and very effective in keeping onlookers from getting too close to their canopy. Without a word, they quietly began to draw the curtains of the canopy, concealing the party from everyone else at the beach.

"For our privacy," explained Samson with a smile. "The curtains are one-way translucent." The girls could still see the beach through a gray muted tint but no one could see them. The onlookers squinted outside to no avail. If the girls understood his ruse, they were having too much of a good time to care. Samson lighted a spliff and passed it around. After Samson cracked a not-so-subtle joke about sharing his "big joint," Anaïs traced her finger provocatively along the giant bulge of his swimsuit.

"Are those speedos?" she asked.

"Versace to be exact. Donatella personally designed them for me."

"Custom-sized?"

"Yes, they only go up to XL if you buy off the rack."

"I can tell," she whispered. Samson did not hesitate. He closed in for the kiss. His lips touched hers ever so lightly as her eyes fluttered closed. He took her face in his hands and kissed her again, a little harder. Her lips resisted, and then opened slowly as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. Her eyes widened as the serpentine length slid deeper. The gentle kiss built in passion and heat as their tongues entwined with each other.

"Take it out," he grunted. The imposing bulge in his skintight swimsuit had grown obscenely large. Anaïs did not know what to do with the monster. She couldn't even wrap her hand around the girth to jack him. Her hand traveled back and forth along the length with amazement. Unable to restrain her curiosity, she laid her forearm along his shaft to measure him. Even with her palm flush against his abs, his knob rested inside the crook of her elbow, the tip pressing firmly into her bicep. Anaïs had seen a few low-res streaming videos of Samson in action but never apprehended his sheer size before now. Anaïs touched a fingertip to the very end of him. The crown bobbed in return. A pearly bead of spunk appeared at the opening, and she rubbed it around the head. The skin was smooth as silk.

"God, he is huge!" Celine whispered loud enough for everyone to hear her astonishment.

Her girlfriends watched the couple with rapt attention as Anaïs proceeded to fondle his giant slab of manmeat. They all figured Samson would take liberties with their attractive companion after inviting her to lie with him on the giant lounge chair. However, the pair was moving ahead with staggering boldness and speed. Unbelievably, Samson did not plan even on taking her back to his hotel. He would enjoy her right on the beach.

Samson yanked her ass to the edge of the seat and Anaïs suddenly realized he was going to fuck her right in the chair. "We can't," the blonde protested weakly even as she spread her legs open for him. "You mean we shouldn't," he corrected her. "But we shall anyway." Samson untied her thong. Anaïs did not bother with any further token resistance. She wanted it just as badly as he did. Even on a beach, even in front of her friends, even with a charming but complete stranger, she wanted it.

Samson grabbed her ankles and spread them apart as he kneeled between her thighs. She moaned in response. Samson could not help but pause and relish the moment. He was about to plunge his giant cock into the tight cunt of a bikini-clad bombshell. An hour earlier, she could never have imagined having sex in public with the celebrity stud. Her taut navel heaved with anticipation. Her deep blue eyes pleaded for satisfaction. Her long golden legs spread open in a wide-angled V. God, it was good to be Samson.

But instead of thrusting himself into her wet hole, he buried his head in her crotch. Anaïs gasped in delight as the tip of his tongue fluttered against the folds of her pussy. The seductively handsome face that graced a thousand magazine covers hovered between her legs. His breath felt hot and excited against her thighs.

Though the rakish brute earned a well-deserved reputation for machismo, Samson felt no shame in eating pussy. On the contrary, he loved the taste and smell of raw, moist cunt. Though the media fixated on his legendary endowment, Samson spent as much time pleasing girls orally as drilling them with his supersized schlong.

His success with banging blonde bombshells by the bedful was owed to his sincere dedication the female orgasm. Despite his freewheeling love life, girls always returned to Samson's boudoir because he wanted to make them come harder than any other man on Earth. In that sense, he remained faithful. The harem-banging Don Juan never flagged in his commitment to bringing off a lover. No matter how many women requested his amorous talents each night, he put his heart and soul into satisfying each and every one of them.

The blonde's hips swerved back and forth across the cushioning of the wide lounge chair as Samson plunged his long tongue inside her cooch. The organ slid between her inner-vaginal lips and its tip poked her G-spot with almost surgical precision.

"AUUUUNNNGGHH!" she cried out as her body seized up with a heart-stopping climax. The concussive pleasure rocked her world with stunning force. Stars danced before her eyes as an involuntary moan escaped her lips. She only had read about orgasms like that in steamy romance novels. When her vision came back into focus, Samson remained between her legs. He looked into her eyes and smiled mischievously

The champion cunnilingust grasped her bucking hips and stilled her thrashing. With her lower body held firmly in his iron grip, his tongue delved even deeper. The gloves were coming off now. He planned to deliver a knockout climax. Samson didn't just eat her pussy. He feasted upon it. Most guys held their noses when they went down on a woman. But Samson loved to wallow in the musky depths between a woman's thighs.

"Oh God..." she moaned, her head thrashing from side to side. Ava stuffed Anaïs' bikini top into her mouth to muffle her moans as her hips bucked up to meet his mouth. Though the canopy rendered them invisible, she knew from experience it did not render them inaudible. Samson was playing a dangerous game that could get him arrested even in a decadent spot like Ibiza. However, he was also her boss so she did not interfere.

Fully engrossed in pleasuring Anaïs, Samson lifted her ass off the lounge chair and mounted her splayed thighs upon his broad shoulders. He stood up at full height, her head brushing the canvas ceiling of the tent. Standing cunnilingus had become one of Samson's signature moves in adult films. He originally performed it for female-friendly erotic websites like Playgirl. Most porn stars lacked sufficient upper-body strength for lifting a girl off the ground to eat her cookie so his special talent did not go unrecognized. Chicks loved being with a bodybuilding Casanova who used his enormous strength to pleasure them in acrobatic positions no other man could hope to accomplish.

Samson elicited such a strong orgasmic response from his co-stars that he soon started employing the technique in his off camera exploits as well. As long as a bedroom had enough clearance for airborne cunnilingus, Samson preferred to eat pussy standing up. The position allowed him to devour Anaïs' cunt like a watermelon. He could steer her hips to position her hole at any angle for his probing tongue. A lot of guys couldn't sustain tongue-fucking for very long but Samson had very well-developed jaw muscles. He could eat Anaïs for as long as she wanted.

As the blonde squirmed in his grasp, Samson felt a hand grip the base of his erection. A gust of hot breath glided across his shaft. With Anaïs' crotch blocking his field of vision, Samson didn't know which girl had claimed his tool. So he briefly lifted Anaïs off his shoulders and looked down. In fact, there were two females kneeling at his feet in the sand. Ava steadied the base of his cock while Lola traced a fingertip along one of the pulsing veins that wound along his shaft.

Samson instantly sized up the situation. With his attention focused on Anaïs, he stood naked before the girls with a full-mast erection. The size of his tool predictably attracted a lot of curious glances but no one dared touch the musclebound Adonis. Despite being a porn star and an orgiastic cocksman, women naturally felt a bit reluctant to invade Samson's personal space without his consent. Fortunately, he had Ava on hand to encourage their participation. His valet also sensed Lola's hunger and invited her to check out his oversized equipment.

With Celine and Olivia looking on, Ava provided Lola with a guided tour of his phallus as if she were lecturing on an artifact in a museum: "Completely erect, the organ measures an astonishing 34 centimeters. Samson's personal physicians have diagnosed him with a condition known as 'macropenis.' Due to a hyperactive pituitary gland and excessive production of testosterone, his sex organs grew at an explosive rate from the inception of puberty. These hormonal imbalances resulted in other side effects such as stronger erections, prolonged and robust ejaculations, as well as enhanced virility."

"How do you find condoms for that beast?" laughed Lola.

"Well, there aren't any available on the commercial market but we special order a custom size from a boutique manufacturer in England."

"Can I touch it?"

"Go ahead. Don't be shy."

"OH, MY FUCKING GOD!!!" interrupted a voice from above. While Ava and Lola conversed, Samson immersed himself in Anaïs' wet pussy. She frantically humped his face as rivulets of cunt juice trickled down his neck into the sinewed cleft of the bodybuilder's jutting pecs.

Lola looked up at the erotic spectacle. The muscle hunk apparently gave incredible face. Like most women, Lola knew the sight and sound of a real female orgasm. Her girlfriend was not the type of lover who faked one either. Despite the sensationalist headlines, the tabloids did get one thing right. His conquests referred to him as a "sex god." They invariably remarked upon his prowess and expertise.

Without warning, a hand reached around to the back of her head and guided her gaze back downward. The throbbing helmet of his huge cock bounced before her eyes. "Take him," ordered Ava. His valet's impudence aroused Lola as much as it offended her. "I know you're curious," Ava continued, reading her mind. "What woman hasn't fantasized about Samson?" Lola opened wide as her new friend guided his long thick tool towards her warm mouth. The vixen wedged the knob between her lips, then stuck out her tongue to cradle the underside of his knob.

"Now suck," ordered Ava. Lola sucked and his hips instinctively responded by thrusting another inch into her mouth. Samson felt her tongue whirling underneath his cock. "That's it," he groaned. "Work your tongue, babe." Lola continued to flick her tongue across his sensitive underside as Ava stroked the exposed portion of cock her companion hadn't swallowed. Just before Ava invited one of the other girls to work on his shaft, Lola's mouth plunged forward.

Samson felt the head brush past her tonsils. She gagged but forged ahead with gusto. "Lola..." Samson groaned under his breath. He marveled at the way she worked her tongue furiously under his head and shaft. The vixen was driving him wilder than most porn stars that sucked his cock as their profession.

Unyoking himself from Anaïs, Samson looked down at his latest conquest with a wicked grin. He then surveyed the rest of his company. Celine studiously taped their sex show on her smartphone. Ava made out with Olivia. The overamped sexual atmosphere delighted him. He had impulsively picked a seemingly innocent group of young ladies out of a crowd and lured them into an orgy with himself. Of course, Ava provided invaluable assistance. She knew exactly how to set up a group scene for the harem stud. The sexual butterfly flit from girl to girl with shameless promiscuity, charming them all with a friendly smile and a seductive physicality that encouraged novel forms of experimentation.

Suddenly, Ava's mobile rang out. Not too many people had her personal number so she knew to pick up immediately. After a quick conversation, her demeanor became more professional. "They're coming," she whispered into Samson's ear. Ava then made another call about a "pickup."

Despite his recent exertions, Samson became all business. He struggled to put his erection back inside his speedos. Sunglasses and wigs were passed out to his companions. Ava explained the paparazzi were harmless but they might prefer to remain anonymous.

His attendants kept the beachgoers from storming the canopy but a crowd had gathered at the perimeter. PG-Rated photos of their little party had started appearing on Instagram about a half-hour ago. Celine looked a bit frightened. How could they possibly escape from this mob? As if to answer her question, she heard a buzzing noise from above. Within seconds, it grew so loud that she couldn't hear Samson's laughter. He was more amused than alarmed.

The helicopter hovered about 100 feet over the canopy. The door to the craft opened and a rescue basket was lowered from a motorized pulley. It gently hit the sand with a thud. Ava led Celine out of the tent and into the basket. It only accommodated one passenger so the evacuation would take a few trips. Ava gave the pilot the high sign and the pulley began to lift the basket off the ground. Despite the rapidly growing altitude, the height did not scare Celine in the least. The pilot helped her board the craft without incident.

One by one, Ava led the girls out of the canopy and into the basket. The entire process would require six up-and-down trips. That meant nearly twenty minutes to get everyone on board. This would be the first and last time Samson would attempt such a clumsy evacuation. He could not help but laugh a bit at the absurd predicament. Well, it had seemed like a good idea when he bought the helicopter...

The paparazzi had arrived and predictably went apeshit. The chaotic rescue operation would go viral big time. At least, the helicopter kept the news outlets from deploying drones to follow him. Those devices had become especially meddlesome and intrusive as of late. They proved an annoying distraction when he made love to a woman on his private beach in Malibu.

Samson hid with Anaïs inside the canopy. With nothing to do but wait for the moment, he instinctually began to make out with her. She reciprocated with delight. Not two minutes later, they had returned to his lounge chair to screw around. The blonde lay and spread for him across the extra-wide cushioning, the very portrait of a woman in heat.

Without delay, Samson slowly thrust himself into her wet hole. Even though she anticipated his size, Anaïs still grunted in surprise. Samson groaned in pleasure as her tight and hot cunt enveloped his thick shaft. Her vaginal muscles gripped him like a velvet vise as he pulled out and buried himself with the next thrust. Anaïs' hands went out and gripped his pylon-strength forearms as he pushed into her again and again, going deeper and harder on each stroke. He reveled in the luscious feeling of her inner walls as they rippled over his massive shaft. Her hands clawed his back as he slammed her box over and over again.

Samson pushed her ankles back even farther and leaned in for additional leverage on his thrusts. She never felt so crammed full of meat and he only had buried his rod halfway home. His thrusts stretched her interiors to their inexorable limit and beyond. But when he drew back, her silken sheathe clamped down almost violently, desperately trying to draw him back in...

"You're so fucking tight," Samson whispered as he thrust inside her. That was about as much of a compliment as the ladykiller would concede.

Ava peeked inside the flap of the tent. "Hurry up!" she yelled at Samson as he pounded Anaïs. Without even bothering to look up, he told Ava to board the helicopter next. They would depart after her. Ava hesitated. Samson reassured her they would follow in "just a sec." She sighed in resignation as Anaïs began to cry out in orgasm. Her employer exercised poor judgment and impulse control while rutting. However, he ran the show. Ava exited and hopped into the rescue basket.