Updated on August 5, 2015
A very sexy story
I can be a merciless critic when I don’t like something, and a certain sexy story has come under my scrutiny a lot in the last few years. But they do say, “those who can’t write, criticise.” Well, fine. I’d best prove I can write then. Here’s my proof that I can be up there with the best of them.
Without further ado, I present to you…
The Virgin and the Billionaire
A Totally Original Story
I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror as I rode the elevator up to my new boyfriend’s penthouse suite. I was wearing more make-up than usual and a tight dress that flattered my porn-star figure (something I might have realised, if I knew what a porn-star was or that I looked just like one). I brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes; hair the same colour and length as the reader’s.
Excitement filled my stomach and travelled down into my unmentionables. Tonight was the night I was going to lose my virginity. It wasn’t out of any religious or moral choice that I was still a virgin at twenty-four, but because I had never found the right man upon whom to bestow my precious flower. But just last week I had found him: Dick Moneybags, the billionaire genius philanthropist model, who had wooed me by phoning me relentlessly, having a car follow me home from work and – on one particularly heady night of romance – breaking into my apartment and strangling my cat with his silk tie.
The elevator doors slid gently open. Just like my legs will later on, I thought. I stepped into the corridor and knocked on the top floor’s only door, listening to the sound echoing through the apartment beyond. Almost like the erotic beating of my heart, I pondered. Within moments the door opened wide and I went inside in one swift motion. In much the same manner as a penis into a vagina, I mused. Like the sex I’ll be having tonight.
He was standing in the large, open-plan living room, running a paintbrush over a canvas with the same skill as a gigolo might run his tongue along someone’s inner thigh. The apartment was sparsely but artfully decorated. Black and white close-ups of female body parts filled every wall and any corner that didn’t contain furniture was taken up with sculptures of couples entwined in sexual contortions. Everything in the room added to the intoxicating ambience of masculine power and uncompromising wealth. Even the sofas were made of metal.
Dick put down his paintbrush and looked at me, his eyes burning like the liquid run-off from a smelting factory.
“Hello, Jane Doe,” he said, holding out his hand. “Come.”
I came instantly, my knees buckling and pitching me onto the floor in a paroxysm of sexual agony.
“No, not like that. I meant come with me.”
He helped me up off the cold stone floor and led me into the bedroom, which I might have described if I weren’t so determined to hurry up the plot and get to the sexy bit.
“Clothes off,” he commanded.
Within moments I was undressed and he had pushed me backwards onto the bed. I quivered all over. I didn’t know how he did this to me. I just didn’t understand how he could send sparks of pleasure into my forbidden zone using only his deep, inviting voice, his perfectly sculpted six-pack and the fact that we had already agreed to have full sex.
“I have very particular tastes,” he growled. “Are you sure you’re ready?”
I groaned in response.
From his pocket he pulled out the tie that he had used to asphyxiate Snuggles and began to tie it around my wrists. I looked at him wide-eyed and he frowned.
“I’m the most fucked up person you could ever imagine,” he muttered.
“I know,” I breathed. I already knew about his proclivities and his past, but nothing I heard had put me off. In fact, the more disturbing the information I uncovered, the more I wanted to marry him and have his babies. I knew it sounded mad and that no other woman would ever understand, but it was just so tempting to try and change him.
I shook my head and scowled to rid myself of the strange thoughts.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Sorry, I forgot you could see me.”
He let out a guttural moan as he bound my hands to the wooden headboard. Then he started to explore my body with his mouth. He ran his lips from my forehead, down the length of my nose and onto my chin, then he licked my shoulders and sucked on my collarbone. Oh my. He started to move lower and lower, caressing the space between my breasts and then my hipbones, and then, all of a sudden, he was … there. Uncharted territory. Where no man had gone before. Here be dragons.
“You taste like marshmallows and sunshine,” he whispered.
“That’ll be my shower gel,” I moaned.
Slowly his tongue began to circle … me. I could feel the sensation rising in my … area. It felt really amazing in the … particulars. Gradually he picked up the pace and I writhed and bucked and arched on the bed, so that he had to hold me down firmly with his impossibly sexy fingertips. For a few seconds I gasped and shuddered, then everything tensed and a scream emerged from between my parted lips.
“Sign this,” he said, pausing his motion and whipping out a piece of paper and a pen from who knows where. “Sign it and you can finish.”
I clasped the pen in trembling fingers and scrawled an X because I could no longer remember how to spell my name.
“Good,” he grinned and knelt up on the bed.
His jeans had disappeared – for all I knew they had melted off him – and in his hand was a condom. He ripped open the packet, which read ‘SUPER EXTRA MAGNUM’, and slid the prophylactic along his considerable girth. Then he pushed some birth control pills into my mouth, pinching my nose and stroking my throat to make me swallow them, before finally ramming his gigantic endowment into me.
I cried out loudly. Oh my. My first time! Pure pleasure! No other feeling had ever matched the sheer joy of this, the first ever moment of sex! Oh my. I could hardly believe how good it felt, and then he was moving and everything fell away around me, and the sensation began to mount to a fever pitch until I was on the brink and teetering … and with a final thrust he pushed me into the abyss. The universe turned itself inside out and a loud, ethereal harmony filled my ears. I was Time and Heaven and Nature and The Impossible all entwined in one moment of perfect ecstasy.
“Dick Moneybags!” I shouted.
“Jane Doe!” he bellowed into my ear and he came undone too, pulsing and falling into the void with me.
We lay in each other’s arms for a while afterwards, then he sat up and patted me on the bum.
“I must go and finish my sad painting,” he said. “Then I have an important business meeting. You wouldn’t understand.”
I gazed up at him, waiting for him to tell me what I should do.
“Go home, Jane” he said. “Come back tomorrow wearing a smaller dress.”
“But I don’t own a smaller dress.”
He showered me with a handful of hundred dollar bills as he left the room. I didn’t like taking his money like this – after all, I was determined to make my own way in the world and only use the men in my life to advance my career, meet all my sexual needs and serve as my sole emotional crutch. Still, I did need a new dress.
I gathered up the cash and smiled to myself. Perhaps I didn’t need to obey Dick at all. A smaller dress, he’d said. Well, I wouldn’t bend to his will that easily. I laughed uproariously to myself. Maybe I would buy myself a small skirt instead, or some small shorts, or some tiny underwear … or something. That would show him.