April O'Neil- Search for the Trench-coat vigilante

BY : Nickamano
Category: +S through Z > Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Dragon prints: 544
Disclaimer: The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or any related materials are not owned by me. This was created for entertainment purposes only, and I am not profiting financially from the creation of this story.

April O’Neil 2.
Exclusive Investigation: The Search for the ‘Trench-coat Vigilante’.

By: Nickamano.

Disclaimer: This is a fan fiction story using characters from "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles" who were created by Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird, though this story specifically is inspired by the 90's cartoon version.
Either way, the characters are not owned by me and I do not claim any ownership of them or the world they exist in. 
This story is a work of my own imagination and in no way represents anything canonical in reference to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and the characters therein. This was created purely for entertainment purposes, and I am not profiting financially from the creation and online presentation of this story.


Tags: NC. Mf. Mff. MMMf. Minor 2. Oral. Anal. Titfuck. Dom. Abuse. Humil. BDSM. Violence. MiCD. COMPLETE.

 

Chapter 1.

“Next time you're late with the rent, Miss O'Neil, I'm putting my jizz up your ass! Got it?”

April’s vile and disgusting landlord’s words still stabbed into her as she stood in line in the bank. She did her best to shake off the feelings of loathing for her landlord alongside the self-disgust she felt about just how often she had found herself partaking of his cum to avoid his threats of eviction, whenever she was short or late with the rent.

She focussed instead on trying to flip a negative into a positive. She had thought up a little mantra for herself, fashioning it into a meditation-like mental exercise.

  “Okay O’Neil, you’re a reporter, so how would you report this?”

She found that in making the experience a professional exercise she removed herself and her emotions from it and could see more objectively. It didn’t solve anything of course, but it did alleviate some of the emotional difficulty. Besides, it was all good practice career-wise.

  “Okay so, the headline would read 'Apartment Rent Payment Crisis!” She thought. “Or maybe an exposé. The Sordid Reality of Rent Crises!' I’d lead with a little background. Who I am, putting the emphasis on me as a struggling young professional, trying to make it in a male-oriented cutthroat occupation.”

It was early and there weren’t many customers in the bank, eight or nine, plus two or three kids hanging around. April was about halfway along the queue of customers though there were only two tellers at the desk, so the line was closer to a crawl than a sprint.
She noticed one teenage boy, of African heritage, who was openly flirting with the security guard standing near the door. The boy was in skin-tight black jeans and a colourful t-shirt at least two sizes too small, under an unbuttoned plain white shirt that was knotted at his midriff, with the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. 

The security guard, white and middle aged though of slender build, was of course in uniform. It was all standard attire, black pants, blue shirt, cap and badge with a utility belt holding a pistol and radio. Pistol on his left hip which pointed to a left hander. Just what you would expect. The only none regulation item April saw was a rainbow-coloured silicone bracelet peeking out from the cuff of his left shirtsleeve.
Turning away from the two men, and focussed her attention back to her thoughts.

“Then I’d paint the landlord as a perverse greedy bastard, who’s more than happy to take advantage of a young single professional woman in need. Then I guess I’d go into why I was short on the rent this time. That I had an opportunity for an improvement in my career prospects and had to dress to impress. I only had enough money in the bank for either the dress I was told to get or the rent, and as you have to spend money to make money, I prioritised long term investment over short term obligations. Wait, wait, wait...” 

Another boy caught April’s eyes. He was Hispanic and didn’t seem very far into his teens, though it was hard to tell these days. He wore black jeans, sneakers and a navy-blue hoodie with a yellow scarf tucked under the hood and wrapped loosely around his neck, his hair was covered with a close-knit beanie that was a mixture of yellow and blue camouflage patterning. He was playing around with his cell phone, waving the camera around randomly, often sweeping it up toward the ceiling and the corners of the bank, apparently completely at random. She dismissed the boy as a kid, mindlessly distracted seeing the world through his phone camera, probably enjoying the feeling of disassociation from reality. It was something she sometimes experienced in the editing process, seeing herself on screen somehow made the on-screen April O’Neil, a separate person to the real her.

The individual being served at the counter finally finished her business, stepped away to make room for the next in line, then retreated along the queue absently stuffing her papers back into her purse and completely ignoring everyone around her. As April followed the line’s advance, taking the same three steps forward everyone else had taken, she fought her attention back to her personal inward meditations. 

  “…Okay, listen to yourself. This is a news story, April. Stories have to have clarity. Concision. So, be clear... Think. Go through the sequence of events from the beginning. An opening statement, clear with well-chosen words. A statement of intent. Then you can go off onto the rest of it…”

A third teenager sat against one wall, on a small couch as though he was waiting for someone in the line. He had ear buds in and his phone on the seat beside him, legs crossed with a sketch book propped up in his lap. He appeared to be drawing rapidly. While his head bobbed to the fast rhythm of the music. His eyes were constantly darting up and down, taking in the interior of the bank and then back down to his sketchbook. This kid was more of a surfer type, long bleached blond hair, tanned skin, Bermuda shorts with high-top sneakers and a loose and colourful tank top under an unzipped sky-blue hoodie. April was abruptly caught out looking over at the handsome Anglo teen, who actually reminded her a young Patrick Swayze. She felt herself blushing and snatched her eyes away from the boy, intimately aware of the heat in her cheeks, though not before he had grinned at her and tossed her cheeky wink.

  “Focus April, for God’s sake! …Okay, so I had the rent to pay, but I also had to buy the dress Mister James had pointed out for our dinner-date tonight. So, I had to get the dress to keep him on side, or at least a version of it that I could afford. The closest approximation that a girl on a budget could stretch to. Should I maybe put a side-line in about Mister James in here? Or just a sentence in the text, maybe: CEO of Channel 17 news, downtown?”

For a moment the teller side-stepped away from her position at the counter and April found herself distracted once again. She didn’t understand why she was so easily distracted today. Maybe her head was trying to tell her something. The teller was a pretty girl, more than likely still in her teens, certainly no older than twenty-one. She wasn’t white, though her mascara appeared to fudge her natural eye shape. April looked harder, trying to test herself, looking for detail and clarity. 

  “So, what's her ethnicity? Asian. No, c’mon April, professionalism. Obviously, she's American. As American as any of us. Need to be aware and dismiss those biases April, no room for bias in reporting... But what's her previous heritage? Her parents or grandparents. Chinese? Korean? Indonesian?”

Two people ahead of her swapped to the other line and suddenly the girl was much closer. The man in front made a deposit which took all of thirty seconds. And then April herself was being served. She engaged with the girl in cool but polite interaction while in her mind she continued her little internal meditative exercise.

  “Check her name tag... Lily, hmm. No help there. What else? She's slender but not skinny, shoulders and arms are well developed, shapeliness due to developed muscles. A dancer maybe? There's quite a lot of make up on her face, concealer. But even so, there's a hint of miscolouring to her skin on her left cheek. Hmm a bruise? Martial artist maybe. Damn April, really? Martial arts? Just because she's Asian American? There's that bias again. Really have to watch that.”

She continued to closely watch the girl as she counted out the $20 notes. And then began to count the 25 strong stack a second time to April. 

  “Look at her, only nineteen or twenty, her career ahead of her. I should have been forging the beginnings of my career when I was her age. Pretty, slender build, smartly dressed… Her eyes are a little shifty, darting all over the place. Not keeping on me like she should, looking around. Does she know those three boys? She's paying more attention to them than to me.”

The girl’s pressed work blouse was actually partially translucent, a hint of a white bra against her porcelain skin, small cup size, unlike April. There was also a little bit of a blemish on the meagre upper slope of her left breast partially hidden under her bra strap. Trying not to stare she looked closer. 

  “…Yeah, that’s actually a tattoo. Isn’t it? Yeah, it's like those little pawprints I've seen but… Actually, no. It's not a pawprint, it’s more like a human footprint… and inside a circle too, strange tattoo to have.”

Transaction complete, April strolled out of the bank once she’d slipped the cash safely into the one of the many pockets of her Channel Six supplied yellow jumpsuit. She didn’t carry a purse partially to make use of all the damn pockets and partially because half the time she was lugging around big professional camera equipment.

 
She caught a taxi a block over from the bank, heading for the Channel Six offices. Keeping up her internal exercise within the cab, but her mindful process had slipped into letting in negative thoughts.  

  “And now here I am, intrepid reporter, probably about to be late for work again because I had to stand in-line in the bank to withdraw cash to pay my landlord so that I can get out of having to let him bugger me. Because I had to buy a dress to impress another sleezy Local TV News studio head to try and kickstart a career that should have been kickstarted eight or nine years ago. Why can't I just be more careful with my finances? No, April, that isn't your fault. That cum-smeared camera lens ruined the story about the latest armed robbery of martial arts stores across town, that’s what led to Mister Thompson cutting my wages…”

The cum stains came from April having to give the owner of the martial arts store, an overweight Jewish scoundrel, a hand job while he felt up her tits, in order to secure exclusivity. She didn’t know where that cum had landed after he’d let fly. It turned out it had splattered all over her tripod-mounted camera and it had been like a full jar of Vaseline smeared all over the lens and rendered the whole interview useless. She’d been able to use the audio but the best she had been able to come up with visually was lots of shots of herself asking the questions and reacting to the answers along with a few stills of the store owner, the store’s exterior and interior, and then some stock images of the kinds of Asian weapons that had been stolen. Mr Thompson had been furious and Vernon had ridiculed her cruelly, laughing at her to her face while trying to knock her even more in the eyes of their employer. So, Mr Thompson had cut her wages.

 "…To ‘force me to take my position and my job seriously’. It hadn’t even been my fault, just an accident. But he wouldn't listen.”

For once luck was with April as she got to work. There was no one around and she was able to slip straight into the editing suite without anyone realising she hadn’t been on time. There she sat getting on with the day’s task, the tedious time-consuming and outright demeaning editing of Vernon Fenwick’s latest piece. Vernon the egotistical senior reporter and all-round sexist and narcissistic prick. It was yet another piece she had brought to the attention of the Channel and yet Mr Thompson had passed the investigation onto the senior reporter Vernon. Rather than letting April run with it herself.

The editing process took all day as Fenwick insisted on checking April’s work and returning it with notes on how to improve her edits. But she could do this stuff with both hands tied behind her back and having to run the software with only her nose. So, her mind wandered once again back to her present dilemma.   

 

The previous night she had once again been forced to prostitute herself to her ex-boyfriend to get the money to cover the shortfall in the rent. And it hadn’t been pleasant. Dave’s apartment was similar to Patrick Bateman’s in American Psycho all clean lines, stark white, industrial minimalism. And to a degree her sleezy lawyer -ex seemed to take style tips from the Christian Bale’s character too. Overall, he was a thinner, more wiry version of Bale’s styling in that movie. Buff, slicked back hair, sharp suits and better-than-everyone-else attitude. He and Vernon would probably get along like a house on fire. Or screw each over for a goddamn percentage at the first opportunity. Wait, was that a movie quote? It sounded like a movie quote, but she couldn’t place it.

  “So, how much you need?” He had asked her as soon as he’d stepped aside to let her into his spider’s web of an apartment.

  “Three hundred.”

  “Since you helped me make partner, I’ll let you have five. But you have to work for it.”

  “I understand, thank you.”

  “Let me introduce you to my little intern.”

The fact that he was totally naked, his well-muscled body evidential of an all-over wax wasn’t in the least bit surprising. He reminded April of a porn star. Not least because his bared penis was at full mast, even sporting a rubber cock ring that cinched the root. He led her through the open plan lounge-kitchen and straight through to the bedroom.

  “You on Viagra or coke?” She asked, watching the hypnotic bob and swing of his engorged stiffness.

  “Why not both?” He laughed. “Four-hour erection baby!”

  “Heart problems? Strokes? Low blood pressure?”

  “What are you, my mother?”

  “Whatever, Dave… I really don’t care what you do with yourself.”

  “Good, then you can shut up.” 

He shoved open the bedroom door and grinned. 

  “Say hello to young Danni here.”

There was a leggy blonde lying prostrate on his huge bed. Though naked, she seemed like the quintessential high-school cheerleader type; Hollywood figured, all over salon-tanned with an upraised taut round ass. Long, razor-straight platinum blonde hair spanned her shoulders and upper back, with a long fringe covering her forehead. She was looking over her left shoulder at the door as Dave led April inside, classic teenage scowl narrowing her huge long-lashed blue eyes and making her full lips pout cutely. The only thing about her not utterly perfect was a slightly weak chin, but that just seemed to give her an element of authenticity, the flaw that somehow raised her loveliness. 

She was tied to the bedstead by cords, first tying her wrists together and stretching them out fully before being secured around the bars of the bedframe. It was a shame she had a tramp stamp across the small of her back, something like a small butterfly flanked with tribal pattern wings. And some other small tattoo on the back of her left shoulder, maybe a Chinese character or something.

  “Hey.” April said to the girl.

  “Who’s she?” The girl insolently demanded.

  “A whore who’s gonna join us for a bit.”

  “Hey, I’m not a whore!”

  “You’re literally here to fuck me in exchange for cash.” He pointed out slowly.

  “I’m not a whore.” She repeated, though a little more sulkily.

  “But you’ll act like one if you want that five hundred.” He said glaring at her. “Now strip.”

  “Hey, I know you, you’re that chick from the local news.” The girl suddenly gasped. “My little brother jerks off to you all the time! Fuck! Dave, I mean… Mister Joshua, can I have my phone?”

  “No, you fuckin’ can’t!”

She pouted again then whipped her head away in a sulk. 

April hurried out of her white boots, using one heel to drag off the opposite boot, then peeled off her yellow jumpsuit and dragged her feet over the lush pale grey carpet to roll her socks off before whipping the skimpy thong down her hips and dumping it on the floor beside the rest of her things. Dave meanwhile was at a drawer at his modern industrial style vanity, snorting another line of pre-prepped cocaine. Then, sniffing and wiping absently at an apparently itchy nose, he flicked on his iPhone and opened an app. For a few seconds he focussed on the screen, swiping and tapping away.

  “Right, I’ve transferred the money to your account.” He said replacing the phone on the vanity’s top. “So, get on the bed and let’s get to the fun bit.”

April insisted on checking her own banking app until she saw the transaction was processing. It would be in her bank account by the open of business tomorrow.

  “Okay,” She sighed, “so what do you want me to do?”

The two of them untied the work experience girl from the headboard and then Dave got Danni and April into a sixty-nine position across the width of his bed. Then he came around from one side of the mattress to the other and stuck his erect cock into any random hole he felt like, having three on either side of the bed to choose from. April’s mouth, as she was on top, and then Danni’s pussy and ass, or April’s ass and pussy and then Danni’s mouth on the bottom. Of the three so called lovers, Dave at least, had a great time. He made it last an hour before he dumped his load, sharing the heavy jets of hot fluid between April’s mouth and Danni’s other two holes.

However, with a still fully-fledged hardon and supposedly feeling guilty of only being able to supply his cum to one side of the bed, resulting in Danni receiving two thirds of his orgasm, Dave got April on her back with Danni sitting on the older woman’s face while the sleezy lawyer shoved himself between his ex’s wide spread thighs and fucked away in both her holes while he leaned over and feasted on her shuddering tits or hungrily French kissed the, April assumed, still-blackmailed young teenager.

<><><>

April had gone out to the fashion store to purchase her dress, having first found it on-line for $300 rather than the $1000 version that had been pointed out to her (via an emailed link to an exclusive high-fashion boutique). She had then called the store and finding stock in her size, requested they hold one for her and that she promised to pick it up later on that day. Her intention had been to nip to the store after work. However, at lunch break she had felt a strong desire to get out of the stuffy studio, get some ‘fresh’ Manhattan air and pick up her dress while she was out and about. Knowing she would feel better once she had taken possession of the apparently essential item. 

It had been a good decision too as by the time April had finally handed over her two satisfactorily edited stories back to Vernon, who had at long last given a reticent approval of her work, she had been a half-hour beyond her official finishing time and the store would have been closed already. Breathing a sigh of relief and trying to tamp down the rising anxiety about that night with Mister James, she picked up her belongings and her new purchase and headed for home.

Taking the subway was a difficult decision for April, especially at peak times. Although since her close shave with those gang members and the Trench-coat vigilante off-peak times were an increased concern as well. At peak times she was occasionally groped - chikan style (something else Dave ‘the bastard’ Joshua had told her all about, and made her watch porn parodies of) while the off-peak times there was more room, places to sit down on, and more of a chance of not being assaulted by mystery hands. However, her own recent experience had left her afraid of being in a car with small groups of people, especially if they were being anti-social or somehow belligerent, even if it wasn’t aimed at her.

Fortunately, this time some guy recognised her and very kindly offered her his seat. Then insisted on standing directly in front of her seat, gripping one of the plastic-loop handles and staring down into her cleavage. Though at least he was blocking anyone else from getting too close to her. She offered to send him an autograph to say thanks and he excitedly scribbled his address and phone number on a scrap of paper. He was okay really, just staring down into her cleavage like a man having a religious experience or something - and to be fair, most men she met tended to spend the majority of their time staring at her tits. And he had given her his seat, in the middle of a packed subway car. She should have been grateful rather than uncomfortable… Shouldn’t she?

By the time she had got to her apartment, emptied her pockets onto the kitchen counter and stripped out of her jumpsuit uniform she had long forgotten the guy on the subway. She unpacked her new outfit and hung it on the back of her bedroom door and then jumped into the shower.
It was 7 p.m. and April only had an hour and a half to get ready and get to the restaurant.

<><><>

Carson James sipped his bourbon while he waited, watching the short flight of steps that he expected O’Neil to appear from. It wasn’t a bad restaurant, nice intimate lighting with candles on the small tables. A reasonable selection of food and wine, though the food was mostly western European, nothing particularly spicy or exotic. That was okay though, it might make for a nice change of pace. 

The cocktail waitresses milling around between the tables and the bar were young, pretty and nicely dressed all wearing tight uniforms, black miniskirts, over sheer hose, white blouses and black waistcoats. He’d already given his business card to one hot little piece who had been suitably impressed by the phone call she had overheard that had revealed his role as owner and studio head of Channel Seventeen News and Sports Broadcasting.

The low music playing over the background was an oddly insulting slow and melodic acoustic rendering of classic hip-hop and contemporary R&B hits. The kind of thing white people used to refer to as Muzak or elevator music. The studio executive found himself wincing as the current piece hit the chorus and finally revealed itself, casting off the previous vague familiarity. It was contemporary R&B, not even the R&B he listened to growing up. Rhyme and Beats, rather than Rhythm and Blues.     

Slipping from mid to late forties, Carson James had been brought up through his father and uncles with Motown Soul, and Chicago Blues. All of which he’d railed against when puberty kicked in. High school had introduced him to Schoolly D and then NWA. And he hadn’t moved too far away from that era, though he had embraced his childhood tastes all over again since he’d turned thirty and inherited his father’s old record collection. College had turned him political and led him on the path to journalism and television news. And now here he was running his own successful local news channel.

The O’Neil girl appeared, interrupting his thoughts, and even though she wore a long, woollen maroon coat with a high collar, he could tell from the wave-styled auburn hair, the pearl bling and glittery make up and the six-inch glittery smoky-gold heels. She had certainly made an effort for him. But it was the dress he wanted to see. He had picked it specially for what it would do to show off her body and essentially talked her into wearing it specifically. She spoke to the Maître d at his little podium who appeared to motion to her coat, she actually dipped her head coyly but worked her way down the three buttons all the same. She slipped the coat off and handed it to the man who promptly disappeared with it. 

One of the pretty cocktail waitresses led O’Neil down the step to James’ table, who actually stood up to receive her. Either O’Neil was already drunk or she didn’t know how to walk in heels which made her approach was mildly amusing. She and James were equally aware that the eyes of just about everyone in the restaurant were glued onto the red-haired stunner as, blushing beneath her make up, she weaved her way between the small round tables toward James’. Even the pretty waitress was suitably overshadowed.

The dress was a sequined metallic fabric in dark gold. And there wasn’t much of it either. The halter neck had a draped style front, suspended by a thin chain that went around her neck, the metallic satin clung to breasts, that were simply huge, and cascaded down over her midriff and abdomen like twin sun-kissed waterfalls. It was also backless so she was unable to wear a bra. The scooped draped back hit the tops of her buttocks, almost but not quite revealing ass cleavage. The skirt was ruched, horizontal gathers as well as splits on both sides, the length barely beating the waitresses’ mini-skirts. 

He belatedly noticed the small gold watch on her left wrist, a miniscule string of pearls and little pearl earrings. Though, the earrings were mostly concealed by the upward curling wisps of her collar length red hair. Her auburn tresses she had somehow teased into an alluring take on a pageboy cut - flattened and swirled around the back and sides with the thick fringe dragged forward at an angle and straightened, almost like a russet wave rolling across her smooth brow to crash down over one eye, practically emo-style.

  “Miss O’Neil.” James said.

He smiled, horny and excited by her appearance and her obvious effort, though he was also determined to present himself as his usual in control, commanding and yet laid-back demeanour. He was glad that his suit jacket was buttoned as it would just about conceal the already rock solid and hurriedly distending hardon in his trousers. He glanced at the waitress who promptly pulled O’Neil’s chair back for her and the redhead slid smoothly down into position. 

  “Can I get you something to drink?” He asked.

  “Whatever you’re having is fine, thank you Mister James.”

James caught the eye of the waitress who nodded and took his drained shot glass from the table.

  “A double, I think. And another for me. No ice.”

  “This place is lovely.”

  “Yeah, it’s okay.”

  “Do you approve of the dress, Mister James?”

He almost told her to call him Carson, but he actually preferred the way she said ‘Mister James’.

  “Let’s just say it does you justice.” 

James grinned as April blushed again, then took a hurried sip from the wine glass of pre-poured mineral water to conceal her embarrassment. He took the opportunity to look her over again. There was a subtle hint of glitter in her make up - in her blusher and coppery eye-shadow and even a little across her chest and the enticing inner curves of her bosom, which had been jiggling evocatively and almost continuously since she had removed her coat.

James chose for both of their meals. They had some kind of exotic fruit cocktail as an appetizer and James ordered wine, then for the mains he picked some kind of Japanese-French fusion meal, which was surprisingly delicious, though miniscule in quantity. And throughout the meal they discussed April’s sales pitch.

  “…I believe there’s a vigilante working in Manhattan, maybe throughout much of New York.”

  “A vigilante. Sure. We get ‘em now and then.”

  “This one is a martial arts expert.”

  “Needs more than that.”

  “He wears a disguise…”

  “What like, Batman? Or Daredevil?”

  “I’m calling him the Trench-coat vigilante. He had a trench-coat and a big old fedora.”

  “Now you’re talking about Freddy Kruger.”

  “I’m serious, Mister James. He’s real. I’ve seen him.”

  “So, tell me about it. What did you see exactly?” James said, then interrupted himself.

  “Hold on, a minute, I need to go to the john.” 

He stood up and then paused, gazing back at her expectantly.

  “Well, come on then…”

April baulked for a moment, halfway through sipping her vile bourbon.

  “What? Oh…” 

She blushed crimson, but didn’t voice any protest, just a momentary hesitation as though deciding whether to commit or not. Then she demurely rose from her seat and, keeping her eyes down, followed James to the three little steps at the entrance of the restaurant’s floor with the Maître d’s podium at the top to the left, and then skirted around it, keeping to the left where the washrooms were situated. James kept an eye on her as he led her through the place, she was coming along so she must definitely understand what was expected of her and the fact that she was, meant that she was agreeing to it, surely. Still, he felt the need to bait his hook a little.

  “I have to say April, so far I’m not totally convinced, but you may be onto something. And my audience certainly enjoys a good vigilante story.”

  “I assure you Mister James, if you give me the chance to bring you this exclusive, you won’t regret it. I’ll make sure you don’t, sir.”

He looked back at her as they entered a small foyer separating the restrooms from the restaurant, trying to gauge her meaning. She didn’t seem overly flirtatious. It had probably been meant innocently, but he was going to choose not to take it that way.

  “I’ll have to think it over, though maybe a little more convincing will help sway me.”

Playing her game, he kept his comment inuendo free, at least in his delivery. He could have been talking about conversational convincing, even though he absolutely wasn’t. And she was about to find that out as he led her into the men’s room. 

The usual rank scent of male urine was barely masked by air fresheners and disinfectant. There was a man at the urinal who glanced over his shoulder in surprise as James shoved hard at the door pulling April in alongside him. His surprise turning to shock as he got a look at the lovely young woman being pulled into the room by an upper arm. James glanced around, not really seeming much, just ascertaining the layout of the room and that they weren’t alone. He pulled April straight to one of the stalls and locked them hurriedly within. April hadn’t voiced a protest or tried to pull away or struggle, though she had an overwhelmed, wide eyed expression on her face, a ghostly mindless confusion. As though she had been whisked away and everything was out of her control. That was fine as far as James was concerned, it was her body he wanted, not her mind. 

There was a reverberating thud as he pressed her firmly against the partition wall of the toilet stall and then pinned her against it with his own bulk. At six-foot two, he towered over her five-foot eight. He could feel her smouldering body heat through their compressed clothes. And she was panting lightly, her warm breath tickling his chest through his thin blue shirt. He put a finger under her chin and lifted her face until her huge brown eyes found his. The slightly garish lighting above washed out her face. And reflected blossoms like little fog lights in her deep brown eyes made them appear huge and glistening with moisture. He understood that she was in her late twenties but right then she looked at least decade younger than that. And it made his dick twitch. 

  “M… Mister James, I… I don’t think… I’m not sure…” 

Ignoring April’s breathless words, James leaned down suddenly and planted a full lipped kiss on her mouth. She paused for a moment, that mindless passivity dragging out, but then something gave and with a little breathy purr, she began to kiss him back. 

She tasted of wine and heat and her lipstick was cherry flavoured or something, she parted her lips for him and he immediately went in with his tongue, hornily stuffing as much of the organ into her mouth as he could. He groaned into her wanton mouth as she danced her tongue against his. 

One hand gripped her waist, fingertips in contact with bare skin where the dress wasn’t. His other hand cupped the nape of her neck, ensuring her mouth remained firmly on his. He didn’t know where her hands were, certainly not touching him. He pictured her just standing there with her arms dangling by her sides, passive, barely responsive except for where their mouths connected and it pissed him off. 
He broke the connection and glared down at her, taking in how she licked her lips, the glistening cobweb of saliva that maintained the contact between their mutually plump lips. She was breathing heavily, a tell-tale blush making itself known beneath the glinting blusher. He sought out her hands. One was pressed against the door to the stall, as though holding it shut, while the other was gripping white-knuckled onto the toilet paper dispenser. His eyes found themselves gravitated back to the neckline of her dress. The metallic fabric clinging to the unsupported full teardrops of her porn star-perfect tits. Those smooth silky orbs framed by the erotic gathering of the satin material, falling like liquid down the sides and between her huge breasts. Billowing out beneath until the ruche pleats drew it tight across her wide hips and flat, toned abdomen. James groaned as he stared at those huge tits. He took his hands off her and then a half-step backward.

  “I need to see these.”

She stared up at him, a deer caught in headlights. Her hands came ghostlike toward her chest, stuttered, froze. She stared up at him, mouth open.

  “Get these out.” He said again, giving her an order.

Her eyes went wide, as though she had only just heard and understood his demand. Then those stuttering hands moved again, slowly advancing toward her throat, as though not under her own command. As though he was physically in control of her. She reached around the back of her neck for the clasp holding the two halves of the halter chain together. Her hands shaking, hesitant, anxious and unconvinced, but obeying him all the same. She eventually got the clasp undone and peeled the front of her dress down, letting it hang from her slender waist. Even as her hands were lowering the front of her outfit his reached forward and grabbed a big two-handed grip of her lush bared breasts.
He hefted their warm, buoyant softness in his palms, spreading his fingers wide and squeezing so the silky warmth bulged out from between his excited digits. April let out a little breathy moan at the feel of his hands groping her obediently exposed bosom.   

  “Fuck… me…” He groaned within a drawn-out breath.

He closed the space between them again and found her slack mouth with his tongue, feeding it to her until his lips mashed onto hers. And then he slurped inside her hot mouth, tongue-kissing her with increasing heat and horniness. Of course, throughout the increasingly breathless kiss, he continued to grope her enormous breasts. His hands squeezed harder on the soft mounds, pressing them together, lifting and hefting them and flicking and rubbing at her hot-point nipples with the pads of his thumbs and generally molesting the huge and uncommonly pert orbs, with practically the carefree excitement of a deliberate and uncaring sexual assault. April could do nothing but whimper around his invasive tongue.

He pulled back from the kiss and stared down at her massive tits as he continued to mash and knead them, squeezing, pulling and rolling her nipples between fingers and thumbs.

  “These real, baby? What size we talking?”

  “34EE, Mister J… James.” She muttered.

  “Fuck me… And they’re natural? You didn’t get cut for them?”

  “They’re natural.” 

  “Then let’s make some use of them.”

He grabbed April by the upper arms, quickly whipped her around and dumped her down onto the toilet seat. Then he pressed forward again, straddling her pressed together thighs and leaning in until his stomach filled her vision as he fumbled for his crotch. He tugged the long zipper of his plain black tuxedo trousers down and then reached in and levered out his large, fully erect meat.

Apparently, that was when it got all too real for April. Her eyes went wide when she saw that meaty length, she blushed puce and instinctively tried to lean back away from it, but the painted bricks of the wall were at her back and she had nowhere to go. James ignored her obvious recoil and shuffled forward claiming the remaining inch or two, until his large phallus thumped against her chest.

  “C’mon baby, wrap that sweater meat around this and get me off.”

  “Okay.” April breathed.

It was as though, given a task she undoubtedly knew how to perform, April became abruptly focussed and determined. Her hesitance and uncertainty diminished. Experience informing confidence, she moved like an expert, craning her neck down and parting her lips, allowing saliva to drool down her chest and the cock that was sitting there pulsing visibly. While James put his hands on the back wall and leaned forward to maintain a close proximity, April got a couple of palmfuls of saliva and worked them up and down the inner curves of both full breasts. Then she grabbed his hardness, long enough that it required both hands to properly envelop, and anointed his hot member with her drool, while James let out a long low groan at the feel of her small hands gripping and caressing his long-erect dick.

Finally satisfied with the impromptu lubricant and aware of James’ increasingly obvious impatience, April locked both forearms against the outer curves of her breasts and pressed the impressively full teardrops together, completely enveloping the studio execs’ meat within her cleavage.

James gave another even louder groan at the feel of the slick heat of her encompassing cleavage. He started to jerk his hips automatically, a simple reaction to having his erection enveloped. So, April took up his instigated pace, pressing in with her forearms while she rocked her upper body back and forth, making constant little adjustments to keep his dick snuggly between her tits. Those little adjustments proved to James that she was no amateur at having a dick between her fun bags, she’d obviously done this plenty of times before.

  “C’mon, titty-fuck that cornholer!” He snarled. “Show me what you got, baby!”

He noticed her wide-eyed reaction to his nickname for his meat and it immediately asserted in his thinking that he was going to have to insist she take it up her butt later on.

Of course, it didn’t take long. James was riding a wave of ecstasy fuelled by the live imagery of awesome naked tits stroking up and down his achingly engorged man-meat, combined with the actually feel of them pressed tight around him, silky smooth and slick and warm like freshly baked bread. And all he wanted was to feel those delicious pressure-surges of his cum erupting all over her incredible tits, to coat her in his batter. Who gave a fuck if he only lasted a couple of minutes in that astonishing sensual heaven? 

It ended with a surprise, pleasant or not James couldn’t really decide. He stared down at the tops of her tits where his engorged helmet kept appearing and disappearing, gorging himself on the view. His flow of clear pre-cum went from seeping, adding additional lubrication across the tops of her rapidly bouncing tits, to a near continual trickle. Then feeling it about to erupt, James started to tense and groan, cursing and growling April’s name. The instant before he felt that building pressure unleash itself, the busty young woman released him from her immense cleavage. She desperately grabbed the root of his shaft and stuffed that purple swollen crown into her open mouth.

He even found himself wondering about the taste April would currently be getting accustomed to. Sure, he’d showered that morning, but then before leaving for the studio he’d grabbed his wife as she was heading for the shower after him, and stuffed her with his freshly bathed erection. He had fucked her from behind on the bathroom floor until she had cum all over his dick. And then he had pulled out a few minutes later and hosed her down. Squirting all over her big, succulent ass cheeks. Immediately afterwards, he’d stuffed his meat straight back into his briefs and then jumped into his car and driven straight to work. So not only would there be residue cum but also the dried left overs of his wife’s cum too. She was lucky he hadn’t bothered fucking his PA as well. He had wanted to throughout most of the morning but had been tied down with meetings. And then in the afternoon she had been busy herself, away from her desk doing Christ knew what.

There was a literal second of her hollow-cheeked suctioning while her clenched fist jerked fiercely on the lower half, and then he let out a loud, wheezing grown as his cum swelled up from his balls, gushed the length of his urethra and then burst powerfully into her waiting mouth. She gagged as it sprayed her gullet, pressurised and hot, forcing her to swallow again and again until the surges lapsed to a cascading trickle, a river shrinking to a brook that allowed April to press her lips around the underside of his flange and treat him to a series of long sucking draws, literally vacuuming the dregs of his cum from his dick into her mouth, while the pinch and tug of fingers and thumb on the solid root encouraged the last vestiges up out of his heavy balls.

They took another few minutes to clean up. James making April suck his meat clean of juices and drool before he left her to use sheet after sheet of toilet paper to clean up her chest and cleavage as well as she could. Of course, that had been the main reason she had taken his load into her mouth. It would have been ten times harder to clean herself up well enough to put her dress back in place without leaving tell-tale stains on both flesh and fabric that would have told anyone and everyone looking what they had been up to. It would be one thing to see them returning to their table and make lewd assumptions about what they had been up to, but it was altogether another to see the evidence for yourself. For April, that humiliation would have been too much.

 

 

They were back at the table and dessert was waiting for them, a rich Mississippi Mud Pie drowned in steaming chocolate sauce. At least it was for James. April had already had her own dessert, and he had reported as much to the pretty waitress. However, he did have an Irish-coffee brought for her. She sipped the drink while she told him a sexless and abbreviated story of her first meeting with the Trench-coat vigilante in the subway. It was just barely convincing enough for him to take the opportunity she was offering, as long as she put out for the rest of the evening, of course.

  “Okay, I’m game. What exactly do you want from me?”

  “You’ll get exclusivity to my finished, presented and fully edited report. That’s presented and edited by me. Which you’ll pay me for.”

  “What else? This is your chance, April. You’ll be paying for it in advance so make the most of this opportunity.”

  “I’ll be paying in advance…?” 

She looked confused for a moment. James just gave her the eye. She blushed, her eyes broke from his and her head bowed as her cheeks flushed deeply. But then after a second, she lifted her head again and held his gaze.

  “If it gets good feedback, I’d like you to consider me for a more permanent position as a staff reporter.” She took a breath. “And I’d like an advance, Mister James. Seeing as I’ll be working on my own time, at night and potentially putting myself in harm’s way.”

  “How much?”

  “Two thousand dollars?”

  “Five hundred.”

  “Fifteen hundred?”

  “A grand. That’s my final offer.” 

April stared at him for a minute and then nodded, he saw defeat in her eyes. 

“When can I expect the money?” 

He held her eye for a minute of his own and then grinned meaningfully.

  “First thing in the morning.”

April blushed deeper than ever. She knew. She knew what he was getting at.

  “Okay... First thing in the morning.”

And she had just agreed to his unspoken terms.

  “You done with your drink? I’m ready to get us a cab now.”

 

 
As they walked along the sidewalk toward a parked taxicab that was just ejecting its passengers outside a cinema, James put his hand on April’s ruche fabric-clad ass and gave it a firm, possessive squeeze, enjoying the way it rhythmically flexed and tightened as she walked alongside him.

  “Hope you’re ready for everything I’m gonna do to you tonight, young lady.”

April didn’t respond. Though she leaned into her prospective new boss’s tall, athletic physique, pressing herself against him and didn’t protest about her public groping.

The minute they were sitting on the backseat of the cab he was all over her, pressed tight against her, an arm around the back of her neck, pulling and pinning her close to him.

To the driver they were no doubt just another drunken couple, coupling drunkenly on the backseat of his cab, uninhibited and horny despite the cabbie sitting right in front of them, mere feet away. He probably witnessed this kind of thing every weekend, just featuring an infinite variation of nudity and how far things went. Though in this case James idly wondered if he recognised the woman as April O’Neil. He wondered just how much of a celebrity the news reporter was in her local area. There were circles of men who tuned in for her tits, that much was a given. He had no doubt she received a certain amount of fan mail, but how much was anyone’s guess. 

He hadn’t made any kind of decision over how much he was going to entertain her ideas about working for him. She’d be working underneath him tonight. Working hard. He’d make sure of that, but actually working as a reporter for his station. He couldn’t see it. Once they’re under his employ they start getting above their station, they start having expectations and demands. She might be worth it, if she proved popular with the punters, if she upped his figures and revenue, sure. But for now, and for the foreseeable, he was here for the snatch.   

In the car and on the road, James was fooling around with April, hot and heavy, a taste of what she was to expect until the early hours. He could tell that, at first, April was embarrassed by the driver’s proximity and didn't fail to notice him deliberately adjusting the rear-view mirror. Neither did James, but he didn’t care, in fact he decided to deliberately gave him a crash-inducing view of her bared double-E’s. 

He reached to the nape of her neck and quickly unfastened the halter clasp of her dress then flipped it down onto her lap like a maid’s apron, she gasped and her hands automatically came up to cup her breasts, trying to hide them from the laser beams of the driver. However, a beautiful and slender young woman with huge tits cupping them in her palms to so-called hide them from view, was pretty much a universal turn on and hidden nipples or not, the driver got his visual rocks off from her hurried reaction. 

Maybe James should have got his date a lot more drunk before dragging out of the restaurant. Never mind, too late now. She knew why she was here and she knew he was in charge. She just had to get used to it. So of course, the very next thing James did was to grab her wrists and pull her hands away from her chest. He pushed them down into her lap and pinned them in place, giving the driver the best possible eyeful. Then he leaned in and sought out April’s lips with his, forcing a heavy wet kiss on her while she sat there topless and shivering, humiliated, overwhelmed and utterly under his control. Pretty soon, as he silently demanded, he recognised her beginning to relax in his embrace, apparently choosing to just go with it, not that she really had much choice. 

About halfway to the hotel, James had April up on his lap, her lovely shapely thighs spread on the outside of his. She was leaning to the side of him with one arm around his shoulders and had her head turned to the side so he could continue to kiss her.

He wormed and danced his tongue around hers, from mouth to mouth. And she followed his lead, like a couple of horny ballroom dancers, James leading and April following, obediently being led by his eroticised, passionate rhythm. Their tongues darting back and forth, James was sure there would be flecks of drool on her chin and lips, not that he cared. He loved a good, voraciously dirty kiss and they were drunk, and the kiss was really wet and hornily expressive. And actually, uncommonly noisy. Something else for her to get embarrassed about, he guessed.

Her hands having remained obediently in her lap, he snaked a hand around her shoulder and drooping down her front so he had an overflowing handful of one huge bare breast, squeezing on the smooth silky orb of feminine perfection. He switched between squeezing and kneading the warm, pliant flesh and capturing the brazen nipple between his fingertips and thumb - pulling, rolling and pinching it for his domineering pleasure. James’ other hand was shoved down the back of her dress fondling her ass, even though she was sat on it, with increasing discomfort. She didn’t weigh much so it was nothing for him to have her weight on his palm. First cupping and squeezing her naked ass cheeks and then, as he wormed his way deeper, cupping the thong covered mound of her peach. A couple of his fingers stroked the warm softness cupped by the cotton gusset of her thong, sliding up and down against the partially swollen and damp labia. 

The dampness and swollen state of her lips was telling, he was at least partially turning her on. She wasn’t completely not into it. He found it encouraging and a bolster to his prowess. These days, this might be regarded as ‘Weinstein-esque’ behaviour on his part, but James didn’t care. No matter what movements had been going on, this was still standard fare in the industry. Nothing more than mutual back-scratching. And if looking hot was what you had to offer, that was your currency of choice. Whereas his was money, prestige and opportunity.
As he reached the pinnacle of his from-the-rear caress of her panties, James pressed in harder, locating and teasing the little stub of her swollen clitoris and enjoying the way he made her gasp and twitch against him, the way her lovely face creased up with outright sexual pleasure. 

James grabbed one of April’s dormant hands and slapped her palm urgently onto the hard, warm bulge of his erection. He pushed her to rub at it while, once she was obediently following his silent instruction, he put his hand back onto her naked bosom, squeezing her huge pliant tits and teasing her stiff nipples. His other hand continuing to rub at her pussy lips and clitoris through the damp cotton of her skimpy thong. She seemed to be trying her best to caress the cock under her palm, but the way James was liberally stroking her pussy and making her thighs tremble was apparently distracting and she couldn’t hold in a long, throaty moan of pleasure. It got the cabbie’s attention and James watched as their eyes met momentarily in the rear-view mirror and she blushed crimson. She averted her gaze but not before they both caught the driver’s broad grin, his eyes aflame.

In response, enjoying her dual humiliation. James flitted the tips of his fingers across her clit again intending for the resulting wave of pleasurable heat to cast her embarrassment aside, to make her moan like a little whore. Instead, she chewed on her plump bottom lip to keep the moan from escaping her mouth, which was almost as sweet a reaction.

She had given herself completely over to his desires now, kissing him with just as much wanton heat as he was inflicting on her and keeping up that fast firm caress of the bulge that was snaked halfway down his trouser leg. And better yet, the way James was firmly working at the succulent flesh of that overflowing handful of tit flesh, tight and aggressive without her fighting him off, she apparently enjoyed a bit of the heavy stuff. At least that was what the studio head chose to interpret.

At some point their cab journey ended, indicated to the horny couple on the back seat by the driver locking in the parking brake and turning around to blatantly ogle them, even flicking on the inside light and waiting patiently with bugged eyes and a wide grin until their mouths parted and James, at least, paid him attention. April, embarrassed, was self-consciously trying to cover herself again. The driver obviously wasn’t in a rush. The meter was still running and he had plenty of beautiful tanned and shapely female flesh on display.
James paid in cash, though didn’t tip very well, while April fastened and adjusted her gold minidress again, repositioning her huge breasts correctly inside the non-confines of her dress front.

 

James went at her again in the elevator on the way up to their room, tongue stuffing deep, hands full of tit flesh, burrowing under the top of her dress from the sides, while he stuffed a thick thigh between hers and rubbed his crotch against her flat stomach. April stood there pinned against the mirrored rear of the car taking his physical attentions. However, it didn’t last long as the car pinged to a halt and the doors parted to allow an older couple to board. Forcing April to blushingly push James off her and try and force some decorum to develop.  
Once in the hotel room the rules were out of the window, April found herself stripped naked literally seconds after him shutting the room’s door. And she didn’t even have chance to survey the interior of the suite that she was going to spend the rest of the night inside. 
She spent the following twenty minutes crouched on all fours across a plush red couch with her face pumping rapidly up and down over James’ lap, while both his hands continually mauled her big pendulous breasts. 

Firstly, James had stripped off his jacket, shirt and tie and stepped out of his pants, leaving himself in his underwear. Holding April tight against him, while he had fondled her tits and ass while they exchanged tongues and saliva for a few minutes, before pressing her firmly down to her knees before him on the thick mock-fur rug. She had stripped off his briefs, the large hefty shaft swinging forward into her face. 
He had told her to remove his shoes and socks while she sucked his balls and licked his dick and April had done just that, blindly pulling off the, fortunately, loafers and then his plain cotton socks. Then she went down on his cock, taking on that hefty, hot meat, deep throating him with rapid breathless plunges of her mouth on his shaft while he moaned and cursed, blessing her with multiple foul-mouthed so-called compliments.  

He stopped her after five minutes and led her backward by the hand to the padded couch, slouching down on the left side of it and pulling her onto the seats to his right so she was side-on to him kneeling over his lap, one arm on either side of his hips while her head, gripped in both his hands, messing up her hair completely, dipped down into his lap and sucked his throbbing dick into the seal of her full lipped mouth. James twisted around a little, his back to the padded armrest so he was closer to parallel with her and got a solid two-handed grip of her tits. And then told her to go to town, which she did. Her head jolting rapidly up and down, taking him into the snug oven of her throat while she slurped and sucked noisily. Gagging often, when the pace she was forcing herself to keep, at times proved too much for her, causing her to lose focus. Overall, however the job she performed on his solid meat was exemplary. And the unpleasant so-called compliments would assure her of his enjoyment, somehow encouraging and disrespectful at the same time.

  “Suck that off… yeahhh… awww… Suck that! Yeah, suck that you whore, suck it good…”

  “Yeah! Gag on it slut! Fuck yeah! Suck that hard! Suck on it, all the way down and suck that shit!”

  “Yeah, you gonna choke on my dick, bitch? You choke on that big snake, you cunt!”

Every now and then he would let go of her bosom and grab her head in both hands to increase her cock sucking tempo to what he required. Then, once she obediently picked up the pace to his satisfaction, his hands would reach out, sliding around the outside of her upper arms to grab her tits again, squeezing and bouncing them in his sweaty palms. 

  “You’re a pretty little motherfucker impaled on my dick like that aren’t you?! Cute little whore. Take it deeper, though. That’s it, all the way down.”

  “C’mon and suck my balls right through my dick! C’mon, suck harder bitch! Yeah, now we’re talking!”

  “I wanna see hollow cheeks and tears, just like all my whores. Make your goddamn throat bulge out, make yourself fucking cry, like a proper whore.”

Sometimes he would let her magnificent breasts swing free so he could tweak and tug at her nipples instead. Occasionally even squeezing and jerking on them one at a time, as though he was milking her. April felt herself flushing hot whenever he did this, in compounded shame. But even so, she didn’t relinquish her oral adoration of his dick.

  “You know baby, I can’t decide if I wanna fuck these sweater puppies again and paint them white all over, or just unload down your throat for a second time.”

April was tempted to pull back and give him a submissive: “whatever you like, Mister James” but she decided that keeping her lips around his erection was the better option. However, he changed his mind completely. Grabbing a fistful of her lush auburn hair, he shoved her balls deep and held her there while she slobbered and groaned and choked. Only when she actually slapped at his thigh, making him laugh, did James Let April up off his drool slick shaft.

  “Stand up and bend over, and grab that arm of the chair there.”

April did as he ordered. Spreading her thighs apart as he stepped up behind her, she had to go up onto her tiptoes and James had to spread his stance out and squat down a little to be able to line up his tight muscular hips with her plush, perfect bubble of an ass. He got his hands onto her buttocks, spread them apart and then drove his meat firmly forward straight into her swollen, naked pussy. 

  “Now, fuck yourself on me bitch. Ride me hard. Pretend you’re a ten dollar back-alley crack-whore, fucking to get that next fix that’s got you all desperate.”

He gave her a few open-palmed slaps across her sweet round ass cheeks to get her going. April gritted her teeth, biting back the simmering desire to tell him she was no whore and started to shift herself rapidly back and forth on his hot, meaty lance.

He made her work on his shaft in that position for a good half hour before he pulled out, giving her ass a thunderous slap. Then he took her back to the couch, where he made her ride him reverse cowgirl style, sitting on his lap with her feet braced on the seat of the couch and her arms spread out behind her. She gripped the seat-back cushions while she bounced her peachy ass in his lap, taking his length from just between her labia and slamming it down against her cervix.

Of course, as she rode his throbbing thickness, James made full use of April’s big perky tits from that position. Grasping their undercurves, then squeezing and bouncing them in his cupping palms. Fingers and thumbs pulling and pinching, sometimes rolling her lust stiffened nipples.

She rode him for an increasingly difficult half hour before he climaxed. The speed and dexterity she performed with, slowly diminishing as exhaustion ground down her energy levels. Still, she got him there and he enjoyed every moment of it. And better still, April was the first to orgasm, which she seemed almost as surprised by as James. It happened about twenty minutes in as she maintained a steady though hurried pace, taking him from crown to root, while James carefully timed his movements with hers, the studio head driving up to meet her downward plunging pussy. He enjoyed each hefty slap of his swinging balls and the sweet pressure against them whenever April pushed herself all the way down, her buttocks and inner thighs cracking noisily against his firmly up-thrusting hips. And all the while she whimpered, moaning and panting with increasing breathlessness.

  “Oh, God! Jesus!” She cried out suddenly.

In the next instant, James felt her simmering pussy muscles clench and then clamp hard around his meat, even as he still drilled it in and out of her. She tensed all over, quivering, her back arching. She threw her head back bellowing through her clenched teeth as a series of tumultuous spasms shook her fist-tight pussy and then she literally gushed frothy and warm fluid all over his balls and inner thighs. James thought she had pissed herself for a moment before realising it was a full-on spurted orgasm. He wondered if it had been her first.
Once she had wound down a little, he spanked her ass to bring her back to the task at hand, simultaneously starting to drive up into her, to get her fucking him again. And ten minutes later he felt his own gusher on the rise.

  “Can I swallow your load again, Mister James? Or take it over my tits please? I’d rather not have you empty your balls inside me.”

  “I’ll let you know where my cum is going when I’m ready, baby. Got it?!” James grunted.

It wasn’t meant in a cruel or dismissive way, just domineering. But it shut April up and got her to focus on fucking James and getting him to cum, even though she was getting more and more tired and the sweat was visibly trickling down her delicately muscled spine and pooling between her taut, peachy buttocks. 

The sweet feel of the clutching, hot, well-lubricated drag-and-pull of her snug pussy got his sap rising easily within those ten minutes. While his hands still cupped and squeezed her full breasts, James could feel the delicious pressure rising, his balls churning. And his thrusts intensified, his hips automatically taking over as he rode the tidal wave of sexual joy toward its high, frothy white crest.


  “Get off now, baby. Down on your knees. Throat me till I blow. C’mon, hurry it up you slut!”

April hurried, tucking her knees under her on the mock-fur rug and reaching for his athletic hips as he rose from the couch and stood over her, insinuating himself into her personal space. She grabbed his slick cock and guided it between her lips then reached around and grabbed his ass cheeks while they simultaneously thrust into each other, April driving her wet lips down his hot pulsing meat while he grabbed her head and pulled her onto him, impaling her even as she did the same. She plugged him into her tight throat and the two of them face fucked in unison. In less than a minute they had him groaning colourful curses as he climbed to the peak of that orgasmic wave. Then his balls contracted, or at least felt like they did, and his cum geyser-ed forth.

April gulped her throat muscles again and again, tantalising him, throwing him up beyond his peak as the first pressured spurts bellied forth, bursting into her gullet. She let the first two shoot straight down her throat and then drew back until just the fat crown was between her lips, her tongue writhing at its underside. And she jerked the drool sodden shaft with one hand, working the cum out of his cock. She swallowed the remaining three heavy spurts of hot saltiness and then sucked hard and deep to draw forth the remaining ooze as it pumped thickly forth from the wide mouth of his urethra.

 
Once April was done obediently sucking the residue along with the layer of saliva with long, firm suctioning pulls, hollowing her cheeks each time until she was satisfied that his dick was clean and closer to dry than wet. He allowed her to rock back onto her sweet ass while he slumped exhaustedly down onto the couch.


They slept; pretty much were they lay. But then, sometime around midnight, James’ dander was up again and he shook April awake, offered her a drink from the mini bar and a line of coke from the baggy in his jacket pocket, she accepted the former though refused the latter. Then he looked down at her with a grin and swung his hips, making a feature of his resurgent erection.
  “Ready for round two, baby?” 



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