Boy Toy Chronicles Page 21

Her eyes widen slightly. She peeks her head out the door and looks around. Then she grabs a fistful of my shirt and pulls me into the house. Not a second passes before her mouth’s on mine and her hand’s down my pants. The flowers are left discarded on the floor. She brings the champagne with her up to the bedroom. The entire time her hand never leaves my cock. Once we're in her room, she smirks at me. “I've been so horny since I called three days ago.”

“Good,” I tell her, kissing her neck and unzipping her dress. I pause midway. “You look so pretty in this dress. I kind of don't want to remove it.”

She yanks my hair and pulls me away from her. “Tyler West. You will rip off my clothes. You will worship my body. You will act like you like it.” She smiles and runs the back of her hand on my stubble. I know she likes it so I haven't shaved since she made the booking on Monday. “I like this.”

“Yeah?” I grasp her hips and pull her to me, then I move my lips to her neck, sucking and biting until I'm right by her ear. “I bet you'd like it better between your legs.”

She chews her lip and nods slowly, her eyes half hooded and filled with lust.

“You really are beautiful, Babsy.”

“Quit the sweet talking and get to business, Mr. West.”

I laugh. “Yes, Ma'am.”

***

Twenty minutes later she’s naked. So am I—taking her from behind on her bedroom floor. I tried for the bed. She nixed the idea. My knees fucking hurt, but she’s screaming my name and I ignore the pain and give the woman what she needs. “Fuck me, Tyler! FUCK ME! HARDER! FASTER!”

I do everything I can to not burst out laughing. She’s a complete contradiction and I fucking love it.

“Fuck me!” she screams again.

“Yes, ma’am,” I mumble through a chuckle, and I start pounding her. Harder. Faster. Just like she wants.

After a moment, she asks me to stop. I do. She turns around, still on all fours, her breasts almost touching the carpet. “Everything we do is confidential, right?”

I trace a cross over my heart and try to catch my breath.

She nods. “Good.” She stands up, giving me a perfect view of her sweat covered body. “Follow me.”

I stand up slowly, letting the blood rush back to my legs.

“Have you read Fifty Shades of Grey, Mr. West?”

I can’t help but smile. Any woman that brings that up during an appointment means you’re in for a good time. It’s like everything you’ve ever wanted to do with girls our age is actually possible, just with someone older, and definitely wiser. “Yes, Ma’am. It’s mandatory reading in the house. Why? You hiding a red room?” I joke.

She stays silent as she leads me to a set of double doors off the master bedroom. “No judgment?”

I hold my hands up in surrender. “Promise.”

Fuck, I’m giddy.

She heaves out a sigh before opening both doors at once.

Goddamn.

It isn’t a red room.

It’s a cat play area.

For adults.

Giant scratching poles. Huge balls of yarn. Some kind of weird climbing apparatus. A sand-pit sized kitty litter…I don’t even want to know what that’s for.

She tiptoes across the room and leads me to another door. “Inside. There’s an outfit I need you to change into. Give me a few minutes and I’ll change into mine.” She runs her hand down my bare back before opening the door and shoving me inside, closing it after me.

My eyes take a moment to adjust to the UV light in the room. Then they fix on the clothes rack, and the black leather suits hanging off them. “Ho. Lee. Shit.”

“I’m ready, Mr. West!” she calls out.

I take one more look at myself in the mirror and at the outfit she’d made me wear.

Squaring my shoulders, I prepare for my entrance.

I open the door and step out, my eyes downcast and my cock at full mast. Then I smile and lift my gaze, preparing my voice, making sure it’s deep enough for what I say next. “I’m Batman.”

She practically squeals in delight. Only now do I see that she’s changed too.

Into Catwoman.

It’s every teenage boy’s wet dream.

She purrs as she slinks over to me, just like I’ve seen her seventeen cats do. Her entire body is surrounded by shiny black leather—the same material that her mask is made of. Every inch of her is covered bar her mouth, her ass, and her pussy. The only parts of her I need.

“Holy fucking shit,” I whisper, watching her stalk closer.

She purrs again and my cock twitches. Just like her outfit, I’m covered head to toe—my ass, my dick and my mouth the only thing on display.

Oh. And I have a cape.

Because I’m motherfucking Batman.

She runs a hand…er…paw? Claw? Whatever! She runs it up my leg and to my crotch, her fingers circling it as she slowly stands up. Then with her mouth to my ear… “Meow.”

We play this game of cat and mouse, or cat and bat…for a good ten minutes before she climbs the huge scratching-pole and spreads her legs for me.

I pound into her. She doesn’t scream my name. She doesn’t scream at all.

Want to know what does? Guess.

“Meow meow meow.”

She meows through four orgasms.

On her fifth, she equals, “GOTHAM CITY NEEDS YOU TO COME!”

And I blow.

Because shit. Gotham City needed me to.

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