Personal Narrative Fiction

Words: 483
Pages: 2

Finished with the Heiress's body, the Head of Security recovered his breath as he peered down at Lexi. The Socialite may not have climaxed a third time, but he'd gathered from the manner in which her body had writhed and bucked that she'd be unable to deny to herself any sensation of pleasure, and her response had so aroused Karl that he'd swiftly withdrawn from her ass, and moved to his feet to coat her in his seed.

Wads of it pooled in the arch of her back, and more dribbled down the crack of her butt, and mingled with the juices elicited from her orgasms when it reached her pussy. With her arms still shackled, clothes ripped, freshly fucked holes exposed to the world, hair a mess, buttocks welted and scratched, and cum adorning her skin, and dripping off her ass and slit, she was quite the sight. In her current state, Alexandra Huntington appeared anything but the rich, entitled and pampered Princess she was. A common gutter-slut.
…show more content…
On each occasion Blair Huntington treated him with contempt, and as a subservient pawn, Karl would know that he possessed a secret the man would never become aware of. That he'd dared to use the great Blair Huntington's daughter, and prized possession, as his personal fuck toy. "I hope that was as good for you as it was for me?" Karl taunted as he released the belt, and freed Lexi's arms, then wiped his cock clean with the snowy white sheets, buckled his trousers, and smoothed the creases from his shirt. A moment later, Lexi's phone landed on the