Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
But the blonde has no idea how unattractive she is. She bucks with my two servants lodged in her pussy and ass, as if she’s trying to push them out. Of course, it’s the opposite.
“You’re fucking me so good!” she squeals. “You’re so big! Rub my tits! Fuck my pussy! Give it to me hard in the ass!”
“We are,” Rizza manages in a droll tone, his hips pistoning like a mighty machine. “In fact, you’re about to get it.”
Then, the expression on his face intensifies, and I literally see the cumshoot on Mizhir’s dick begin to pulse. Both men let out shouts of ecstasy as they ejaculate hard, spraying the beautiful blonde with ream after ream of male virility.
“Fuuuuuck,” Mizhir groans. “Hell yeah.”
“Unnnh,” Rizza adds, his dick squirting like an open firehose. “Fuck.”
The blonde, meanwhile, is still screaming and shouting while cursing up a storm. Her sentences have become nonsensical, and I wonder if she’s speaking in tongues.
“Lord deliver you!” she cries out. “Oh Heavenly Father, yes! Yes yes yes! Jesus, take the wheel!”
This is getting to be weird because there’s nothing religious about this dirty session. But I suppose some people become true believers when they experience the little death, and this woman is no exception.
“My life insurance is PAID!” she screams, straining against her bonds. “You heard me, Father. If I die now, it is PAID!”
Rizza slowly pulls his shaft out before clambering down off the cross.
“But you’re not dead. You’re alive,” he says in a sardonic voice.
Mizhir pulls out as well, his dick slick and glistening with her fluids.
“Maybe she’s a little too genuine,” he adds with a shake of his head. “You know, without a filter and all? Yeah, I don’t think this one’s going to work.”
Of course, it’s rude for him to say that while the blonde’s right there, and he turns quickly to peer into the shadows at me. But my servant has the right of it. This woman is far too crazy, and she’s literally frothing at the mouth now as gibberish escapes her lips.
“Mockyto! Lord have mercy, jumba-wumba cococo!”
I nod slightly, and my men incline their heads in return, their expressions resigned. Then, they begin undoing the woman’s fastenings as I get up and leave the small chamber, shutting the door quietly behind me. I know my two henchmen will handle everything, from escorting her out to disinfecting the room and removing any traces of depravity.
Still, the situation sucks. It feels like we’ve been searching for a long time already. After all, I’m a prince of the kingdom, and I have a special mutation that makes double penetration absolutely necessary. Granted, most people don’t use their servants to “train” a potential partner’s cunt and ass, but then, I’m not most people. Mizhir and Rizza do my bidding, and as a Prince of Lysenia, their lives are sworn to mine.
But when will I find a suitable woman? I’m getting tired of running through ladies at light speed, all of them crazy, unsuitable, or both. Where is my dream girl? My shoulders slump as I make my way down the hall because she certainly doesn’t seem to be in Chicago.
CHAPTER 2
Ali
“Are you sure?” my friend Mirabelle whispers as we’re escorted into the gilded foyer of Club Z. “So there’s a dark prince who lives here?”
I shake my head while rolling my eyes.
“He doesn’t live here,” I say. “I just heard he plays here sometimes.”
“Okay,” Mirabelle nods. “But what’s his name? And what country is he from?”
I shrug.
“I don’t know. They didn’t say. They’re top secret about these kinds of things you know. It’s not for the hoi polloi to know.”
“Hoi polloi?” my friend asks, her cute button nose scrunching. “I swear, you’re so uppity sometimes, Ali, using big vocabulary words like that. Besides, who’s they?” my friend insists again, tugging at the top of her strapless mini-dress. “Sometimes, you’re so secretive in addition to being uppity.”
I merely roll my eyes where she can’t see. Hoi polloi is not the craziest phrase in the world, and in fact, I learned it because I love doing crosswords. I’m not super-educated or anything like that. In fact, I’m a student at Oakdale Community College, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t do my crosswords every day. They’re an addiction, if you ask me, and I have subscriptions to The New York Times, The Chicago Tribune, and The Boston Globe so that I can hit all of their crosswords each day. Oh, and I like the reporting too.
But this isn’t the time for crosswords because Mirabelle and I have secured entry into one of the most exclusive sex clubs in Chicago: Club Z. It wasn’t without some effort. I asked around for the longest time, and finally, my mom’s personal trainer’s aunt’s younger sister admitted that she knew someone who was a member. Then, I approached this person out of the blue, and after some reasoned persuasion (okay, I begged), they secured a guest pass for me and my friend. Of course, it helps that Mira and I are attractive young women because no one wants old, grizzled dudes at this kind of place. They want nubile, smiling, sassy young women who will wear mini-skirts and flirt. Sure, I’ll do all that – while I search for my mysterious prince.