Twenty-One Ch. 02

Brooke's twenty-first birthday night out is made more interesting when her bitchy friend dares her to hit on a suave stranger. The man in question is seductive English businessman and all-round bastard Gavin McClain. Now stripped on all fours in his hotel room, Brooke is about to have a birthday celebration she'll never forget.

Heart in mouth along with her tights, Brooke started towards him in a nervous prowl. She wondered if his gaze was lingering more on her suspended tits or on the slope of her back. The commands had stopped and there was silence now from the stereo. God she wanted to open her eyes, look on her imminent future. Was he still seated casually on the bed, or had he stood up in expectation? Would she find him on her arrival towering over her?

The answer came quickly. She had not crawled half a dozen paces before a broad hand laid itself on her forehead and halted her. Gavin's sudden proximity stole her breath and tensed her body. "Sit up," he told her, and she obeyed like a good little doggie, panting to match. "Stay right there and keep those eyes shut. Don't you move a muscle." Like she had anywhere to go ... She knelt with her hands resting lightly on her bare thighs, scared of and craving what was next. Two fingers pincered into her stuffed mouth. "Open that pretty mouth wide. And keep it open."

The sodden ball of netting was extracted deftly, leaving her mouth vacant and ready. Gavin's hand closed to the back of Brooke's head and guided her where she'd known she was going—onto hard pulsing cock-flesh. She had to widen her lips to get him in. Then her mouth was full with the hot and salty head of Gavin's erection. His hand moved to grip her jaw, tilting back her head.

"You can look now." She opened her eyes and looked all the way up, over the wall of his hard stomach and his rock-hewn chest to where he stared down upon her. Stared, and photographed. Her eyes widened as they were caught in the flash. "It's okay," he said. "This is your phone. A memento. Look how well it's come out."

He flipped her iPhone around so she could see what he saw—a naked slut with hooped earrings and wide-staring eyes, her lipstick-painted mouth stretched in a capital O around one huge trunk of a cock. The hand caressing her jaw made the situation very clear. This slut was owned.

"Now that's one pretty birthday-girl," Gavin said, his features calm although his dick was bulging huge. "Apologies in advance for smudging the effect. Unless of course that mascara is run-proof. Shall we see?"

Oh god! She was bracing herself for his experiment when her phone buzzed in his hand. He checked the read-out and smiled. "Expecting a celebratory call from your dad?" Her face scorched in mortification and he laughed. "I'm playing with you again, Brooke. It's your friend Kimber. Like to chat? No doubt she's worried about you."

She pleaded 'no' with her eyes, but he ignored her, clicking to receive the call and holding the cell phone to her ear. His thoughtfully withdrawn cock made a soft 'plop' as it left her mouth.

"Oh, so you've decided we're worth replying to, lady. I hope your English muffin man is worth abandoning all your friends for." Kimber sounded considerably further down the road to full inebriation. "So does he have a stiff upper lip?"

The girl's malice grated on Brooke, despite all else on her mind. "He's got a stiff everything," she informed her sometime friend, the proof brushing her lips. "You'd be amazed. I oughta thank you for sending me his way."

"It was a joke," Kimber slurred. "I didn't think you'd be slut enough to really do it."

Brooke fought for a response, but her paramour withdrew the phone from her ear and supplied it himself. "Hello Kimber," she heard him say in a tone of sheer pussy-melting gravel. "We didn't get properly introduced. My name's Gavin and I'm about to give your friend Brooke the kind of evening you so clearly wanted. Because frankly, I find her more interesting. Enjoy your night." He tossed the phone onto a nearby sofa and tightened his grip on Brooke's jaw. His eyes were flashing wicked. "Now tell me that's not worth a suck."

Damn, it was worth a whole lot more than a suck. Brooke opened wide and slurped him up, trying to get her mouth around that magnificent girth. The bride-fucking bastard had just given her a present to die for and sucking his beautiful cock was the least she could do in return. She was full with him, his pre-cum secreting all over her taste-buds as she guzzled steadily, rhythmically, slavering a precocious tongue about the base of his shaft. It was a stretch, literally, but she could manage. He'll like this. He likes me. He'll go easy on me. She reached two-handed for the base of his great column to steady the situation—prevent things from getting out of control.

Gavin was having none of it. "Oh no you don't, girl. Put those hands where they were and use that fucking mouth like God intended."

Brooke's hands retreated to her thighs like she'd been naughty. Her confidence in the task wavered, but she sucked air through her nose nonetheless, readied herself and gobbled more of him. Oh my god he's huge. He's gorgeous and he's fucking huge. I'm sucking this wicked man's cock ...

She applied the most loving suction she could muster, blinking up at him slowly, looking for flickers of reaction in that granite visage. Her mouth swelled and ebbed around him, slipping back to where he narrowed beneath the glans so her tongue could tease the sweet spot she knew would be found there; then she dived and took in a great mouthful, stretching her lips into that wide pink circle in which she hoped he would delight. She repeated the move a few times, holding the down-moment longer each time and waggling her tongue to blanket his underside.

Is that good? Is that good for you?

His hand had strayed from her chin to stroke the clipped tresses of her hair and her heart fluttered, at the thought of the pressure he could apply any moment. She came off him and flickered her tongue-tip against his salty slit. "Do you like that? Am I doing it well?"

"You're a talented young lady." He stood there relaxed, even though every muscle in his body was hard, none more so than that which hovered glistening in front of her face. "You've worked up that skill on a few lucky boyfriends, haven't you?"

She chewed her lip and nodded, suddenly shy. "Yeah. A few."

"Plus the guy in the bathroom you stole from Kimber, right?"

"Uh-huh. There was him."

"You drained his balls, didn't you, Brooke? Drank it all down, thick and hot."

"I did. I took it all."

"He must have thought this little cock-sucker was sent from heaven, right?"

"He really liked it, yeah."

"I don't doubt it. Did you take him down your throat?"

"Did I-"

"Did you take his cock down your throat, Brooke?"

"I- Well- No."

"Have you ever taken a cock that way?"

"No." Oh god. "No, I haven't."

"I did wonder. Well you're twenty-one, now. Don't you think it's time you learned how to give that to a boy?"

Her breath had grown progressively shorter during the exchange. It was all she could do to squeak her response. But somehow she braved his gaze as she did it. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess." If she managed this monster, it occurred to her, she'd be good for anyone. Strong fingers gripped the back of her head as she opened wide.

Brooke's heart boomed in her chest as Gavin's cock made its long steady progression past her lips, over her tongue and into her throat. There was a brief panic as he passed from the back of her tongue and went deeper. She made to gag, but the great fuck-pole made no concessions, simply continuing in its dive. She could hear the grating squelch as it squeezed into her vocal tract. He held it there a moment, hand resting lightly on her head as she gurgled on him. Then he withdrew, slow and succulent, till he bobbed before her again, her saliva drooling from his tip.

"See? You're a natural."

She marvelled at how much cock had just been thrust beyond her lips, and then there it was, plunging again, forcing her wide. At least this time she knew such a task was feasible.

He made it last longer this time, pressing deeper, as his thick-veined colossus searched down her throat, her mouth gaping around its base. "There it is, sweetheart, there it damn well is. All the way down." His voice was raw but controlled, throbbing with sexiness. Even as she glugged on his meat, the sense of his pleasure kept her focused. He pulled out suddenly and sprang tall before her face, her relish dripping thick from every inch of him. There was approval in his laughter as she spat out saliva and gasped in air. "Now isn't that a beautiful fucking mess?"

"It is. Oh god, it is." That big drenched phallus—how could she disagree? In her heart-pounding excitement she made the crazy offer. "I'd like to try it on my own."

"Well be my guest."

Brooke gobbled him up and dived onto the shaft before she could chicken out, but minus his insistent hand and purposeful thrusting she only made it halfway. She came off him gagging, but composed her mind and went for it again, pushing herself past the danger point and making it further inches down his shaft. It still wasn't near the base, but it was a worthy throat-ful and she held it long, thinking to stick out her tongue and waggle it on his hard flesh. This time she withdrew hopeful, looking to him for approval as the wetness dripped from her lips and trickled to his balls.

"Was that okay?"

"Yes, Brooke," he said, and there was humour in his eyes. "That was most definitely 'okay'. Now clean me up like a good girl."

Heart soaring with elation she went to work, slithering her tongue up the underside of his cock from balls to head, collecting every drop. She skated about the ridge of his glans, then worked her way down again, slavering busily to lap the excess spit from every inch of him. Her mouth wandering all over this bastard's hard-pumped length—god, he'd made quite the good little whore of her, hadn't he? It shocked and thrilled together and she couldn't get enough.

"Please—please let me touch it ..." Her fingers twitched with impatience.

"You are a bold slut." She looked at him pleading, knowing she was both. "Go on," he said, indulging her. It was like watching someone else's hand reach out, their slim fingers stretching around that massive girth. Smoothly, luxuriously, she let her palm glide up and down the length of that great big dick, loving the resolute hardness under her touch. What an amazing thing, to have the throbbing engine of this man's masculinity in her grasp, its slick, vein-embossed surface hot to the touch of her fingers.

She massaged slowly, observing her own progress and gauging his response when her tongue flickered on his tip or teased under his head. Was that a hiss of in-drawn breath she heard? Lovingly she let her tongue meander down him, then she sucked with care on those shaved and swollen plums of his, while her hand still treated him to an even back-and-forth stroking. Oh my god, check me the fuck out! His balls are in my mouth! Her slutty presumption scared her and her eyes flicked up to his, even as she lavished him with her mouth. "Am I doing well?" She let her breath flow all over his sac.

Gavin responded by stroking her hair, guiding her gently to her feet and drawing her into a kiss. She extended onto tiptoe to meet him and his mouth caressed hers, her hands went wandering, one hooking around his neck, while the other palmed its way across those broad developed pectorals, down to his hard stomach, clutching again at the junction of his groin with his cock. Feeling him, feeling all of him. Getting this massive athletic body within her grasp and enjoying all its scary magnificence. Falling, tumbling further by the second into lust.

"God," she gasped when their mouths parted, "did you really do those things you said?"

"What things?" His fingers splayed over the base of her spine and pulled her closer. With his other hand he cupped her breast and squeezed rhythmically.

She fought for breath under the influence of his touch. "The bride on her wedding day?"

"I fucked her hard, Brooke, in all her white-gowned glory. The cock you're holding now was the one thrusting in and out of her cunt hours after she'd promised herself to another man. What else?"

Brooke's hand almost retreated from the cock in question, such was her sudden qualm. "The girl who stripped ..."

"In a bath of soapy water under spotlights. Slithering and fucking with a second girl, one of the regular performers, while the audience cheered. I screwed them both backstage." His hand continued to knead, harder now. "You want to know anything else?"

"Like ..." She was trembling again, her pussy oozing and her knees threatening to give way, but she still gripped his hard body.

"Like how I like to give my female employees a good working over on my desk or on the copier? What a joy it is to ram it inside the wife or girlfriend of a business colleague and make her scream for more? I could drop the name of the actress I fucked in a bathroom during the London premiere of her movie. How much do you need, Brooke? You know what kind of man I am."

"I do. I do."

"And what kind of man is that?"

"Bad. Badder than any man I've ever met. Or imagined."

"And how does that make you feel?"

"You know how."

"Tell me."

"Like it shouldn't. Hot. Hot and ... and ... and crazy-fucking-horny."

He clutched her breast and made her gasp. "Well that makes you a very bad girl, doesn't it? Wanting to fuck a man like me. Doesn't it, Brooke?"

"I guess it does."

"A naughty, bold, presumptuous, immoral, slutty girl. I think I'm going to have to punish you."

"Punish me?" The word had a scary exciting resonance.

"That's right." He began to walk her in reverse, still fondling her tit. She held onto him lest she stumble in her heels. He guided her between sofas and around an ornate occasional-table, the head of his cock brushing her tummy as they proceeded. His eyes had the quality of a brewing storm and she was transfixed, depending utterly on him to steer her. "Of course," he said, "the items on that list are all qualities I like and admire, but call it a perversity of my nature ... I feel the impetus to punish them as much as reward. Of course to a hot bitch like you, Brooke, punishment and reward might not be too far apart. Turn around."

She turned and found herself nose-to-nose with her reflection in a large gilt-framed mirror. "Stretch those arms. Grip the mantle." Gavin was manhandling her into the desired position, quiet determination on his face. "Now stick out that ass." Brooke could imagine only a limited range of outcomes to this, but she obeyed, heart accelerating wildly once more. Then Gavin's hand was on her out-thrust derriere, moving in smooth circles about her cheeks. "This is one well-toned bum you've got," he observed. "Very taut and athletic. How do you keep it so trim?"

"Circuits," she explained, voice quaking at his manual exploration of her naked ass. "And ... And I do a butt and thighs class every Friday."

"It pays dividends. This is one finely-sculpted bottom." He continued to grope the discussed area, eyes fixed on it. "Remind me ... How old did you say you are today?"

"I ... I ... Twenty-one."

"Good. Start counting."

"Sorry?" Gavin's hand withdrew from her rear and whipped back, smacking her soundly. The initial shock of impact gave way rapidly to stinging pain. "Owww!"

"Count."

Understanding dawned along with conflicting emotions of dread and excitement. "One." Oh god, my poor ass.

Whack. The second spank landed on her other buttock with heft equivalent to the first, resulting in a similar sting. "Shit! Two!"

"That's it. That's the game." There was calm enjoyment in Gavin's voice. "I'm going to take you right up to twenty-one. And then ..." He gripped her shoulder to brace himself for the next application of his palm. "... Then I'm going to ram my cock inside you to the balls. Now just you think on that, birthday-girl."

Brooke thought on it, and the thought made her weak at the knees.

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.

"Sore?"

"Y-Yes."

"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.