My Mafioso Boyfriend - Part 2 Read Free Page A

across my lips and rolled down my chin, but at
     this point. I was getting into this almost as much as he was. His thrusting grew more
     and more intense until suddenly he placed both hands on the back of my head, desperately
     clutching at my hair with his fingers and pulling my head forward, burying his cock
     deep inside of my throat and pressing my lips against the base of pelvis. He grunted
     and moaned, and held my head close to him, trying to push his cock as deep as it would
     go, and then I felt it. His cock itself sort of spasmed and twitched inside of my
     mouth, and then there was a distinct warmness that filled my throat as it began to
     pump hot jism with every twitch. There was a lot of it, I could tell, because while
     most of it had been shot directly into the back of my throat, it seemed to back up
     and start to fill my mouth as well. It was warm and creamy, and tasted salty as it
     washed over my tongue and began to ooze its way out of my mouth around his gushing
     cock.
                  Finally, when the last spurt had came and went, he released his tight grip on the
     back of my head and slid his cock out of my mouth. He began to rub at his swollen
     dick head, slopping around a mixture of semen and saliva, and making little 'oooh'
     sounds as he did it. I brought the back of my hands up to my mouth to wipe it clean
     and looked up at him.
                  "That was it, baby! That was something else! You're amazing. You got a towel or something?"
                  I nodded and got up to get him one, cleaning my face and neck up with it on the way,
     before handing it to him. He cleaned himself up and then tossed the towel down and
     zipped himself up.
                  "I guess I should be heading out then. I'll call you again real soon, okay? And the
     money... just remember, you just pretend it's not even here, okay?"
                  He left shortly after that, before I could really say anything else to him. After
     the door shut behind him, I found myself in a familiar situation. I sat there on my
     couch, my panties once again completely soaked through and my face all flushed and
     hot. His folded up suit jacket was on the table right where he had left it, and the
     television remote sat not far away, where it had been the whole evening. The television
     had never even been turned on. Not far behind my head, sprawled out on the back of
     the couch, I heard Tom gargle out an uninterested meow.
                  "Not now, Tom," I said, still staring at the door, and then I got undressed and crawled
     into the bed, sliding my fingers down between my legs, slipping into the moistness,
     where they stayed until I happened to fall asleep.
                 
                  The next morning I woke not sure how I should have been feeling. My emotions were
     a very strange and confusing mixture, to be sure, but I tried to console myself by
     thinking that at least I wasn't hungover this time. I honestly didn't know what to
     make of this man, who was charming and funny and ridiculously handsome - so handsome
     that at times I wasn't sure he was actually human. He was more like a life-sized,
     living, breathing version of a Ken doll with darker hair and an olive colored complexion.
     Notwithstanding all of that, he was magnificently wealthy and well connected, and
     not at all averse to showering me with fabulous gifts, as the pearl necklace that
     was still sitting on my coffee table stood testament to. But at the same time, I was
     starting to sense that there was something that was just a little off about him. I
     couldn't get Lacie's warnings out of my head, and without his dazzling presence before
     me, I was able to think more clearly about all of it. The day I had met him, he seemed
     pretty averse about calling the police to document the accident. And then there was
     the date he took me on, in which he abruptly left