The Family Business

I put my hand on his dick, which was growing harder by the second. “Ummm, I can’t say the same about you,” I purred.

I was about to dive right into an ocean of lust as I stood over the hotel bed, looking down at Tony. He was waiting-waiting on me to dive right in and ride the wave—and I had every intention of doing just that. Before doubt or guilt could prevent me from engaging in the screw of a lifetime, I lowered myself on top of Tony. As I rocked back and forth, my wetness against him was like the water splashing up against the rocks on the shore.

As I popped my hips back and forth, I could feel Tony staring at me. At first it made me self-conscious, but then I was flattered. He couldn’t take his eyes off of me. What woman wouldn’t be turned on by a man who couldn’t dare turn away from her? So, the more he watched, the more I performed, rolling my hips like a tidal wave.

“Damn, baby. Slow down. I don’t wanna cum,” he pleaded.

I fell over on him, my hair surrounding his head, my hips still working his manhood out. “Isn’t that the whole point?”

“I mean I don’t want to cum yet,” he said, trying to muffle a moan.

“I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t make you cum, baby,” I teased, slowing down and then speeding up again.

“Oh, you like to play, do you?” He grinned. “Then let’s play.”

Before I knew it, Tony had lifted me off of him and flipped me onto the bed, flat on my stomach. He spread my legs with his, then entered me.

“Ohhhh, Tony.” I couldn’t help but moan his name as he pumped into me.

He leaned down and whispered in my ear, “Say it again. Say my name. What’s my name?”

“Tony,” I whispered, totally turned on by his aggressive dominance. He thrust in and out of me, and I appreciated every inch of his well-endowed manhood.

“Again,” he ordered as he pumped faster and faster, each of us on the verge of a climax.

“Tony. Tony ...” By the third “Tony,” we’d both been wiped out as our wetness collided.

“Oh, baby girl.” Tony exhaled as he fell next to me on the bed. “You ...” He searched for words. “You’re incredible.”

“Hmmm, you think so?” I asked as I rested my head on his hairy chest.

“Yes. Trust me. I’m not lying when I say that was the best sex ever.”

“I beg to differ,” I teased. Before his ego could deflate, I said, “Because this right here”—I got up and mounted him yet again—“is the best sex ever.”

I placed him inside me, and we went at it once again. And again, until two hours later, we were both laid out, exhausted.

“I think you better go. It’s getting late,” Tony said, looking over at the clock on the nightstand.

“Oh, I see. You’re kicking me out. Got what you wanted and now you’re kicking me to the curb,” I joked.

“No, never that,” he said, kissing me on the forehead. “I just wouldn’t want the missus getting into any trouble with the mister. I heard what you said the other day on your phone call with him. Does he hit you?”

I immediately got up out of the bed. If I had a dick, it would have just gone limp.

“Hey, come here.” Tony gently pulled me against him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spoil the mood. But you deserve better, and for as long as you’ll let me, I’ll give you better.”

And just like that, he won me over, and I was leaning over to give him a deep, soulful kiss.

“Now, get on out of here. It’s getting late.” He smacked me on the ass and nudged me to go.

He was right. I needed to get going before Harris started blowing up my phone—or worse, before Daddy called. I took a quick shower and got dressed.

“Do you want me to walk you down?” Tony asked.

“Nahh. I’m good,” I said. I was already taking a big chance. The last thing I needed was to get spotted being escorted down from a hotel suite by some sexy-ass Italian guy.

Carl Weber with Eric Pete's books