Primal Bargains
Jump to Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
Chapter 1: Whispers in the Penthouse Glow 🔥
The city skyline pulsed like a living beast outside the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse suite. I’d been Lena Voss for five months now, Victor Kane’s shadow operative in this cutthroat world of tech mergers and shadowed deals. No more shaking my ass on dimly lit stages for tips from suited pervs. This gig paid better, unlocked doors with keycards and security pins. Tonight, at the Global Tech Summit in this glittering Miami tower, my pulse thrummed with that familiar itch.
Victor lounged in the leather armchair, his tailored shirt unbuttoned just enough to show the ink of some ancient tribal tattoo snaking across his chest. The woman before him—drab pantsuit, mousy bob from some Canadian subsidiary—knelt like she’d been born to it. Her lips stretched wide around his thick shaft, slurping greedily while he barked questions about tariff dodges on server imports. The wet smacks echoed off marble floors, mingling with the distant crash of ocean waves thirty stories below. Salty air seeped through the vents, heavy with brine and her muffled whimpers.
I stood frozen in the anteroom, peeking through the cracked door. My thighs clenched, heat blooming between them like a struck match. God, the raw power of it. Victor’s hand fisted her hair, guiding her deeper, his grunts primal as a wolf claiming territory. If I slipped a hand into my lace panties right there, I’d soak through the silk. But no—duty first. My nipples peaked against the thin fabric of my dress, traitorous peaks begging for friction.
“Send in Kira,” Victor growled into his phone, shoving the woman off with a pop. She crawled away, chin glistening, as the door swung wide. Kira sauntered in, all golden waves and endless legs, barely twenty-five. Victor’s eyes lit up, dark and hungry. He nodded at her crotch while she stood statue-still, his fingers vanishing up her skirt. She bit her lip, eyes fluttering shut, scent of her arousal cutting through the room like musk.
Me? I backed away, breath ragged. Wetness slicked my inner thighs. This job was turning me into a voyeuristic fiend, every glance stoking that primal fire inside.
Errands in the Heat
Victor’s call buzzed my phone moments later. “Lena, handle these two without me. Limo’s downstairs. Jax’ll drive. Get the merger votes.”
I smoothed my dress—deep crimson silk, hugging my curves like a second skin—and headed down. The elevator hummed, mirrors reflecting my flushed cheeks, full C-cups straining the neckline. Jax waited by the black stretch beast, his massive frame filling the door like a wall of muscle. Ex-military, buzzed head, arms inked to hell.
“Morning, Miss Voss,” he rumbled, eyes dipping just a beat too long to my cleavage. Heat.
“Lena, Jax. When it’s us.” I slid into leather-scented luxury, crossing my legs to hide the damp spot growing.
First stop: Harlan’s suite in the tower’s east wing. Old-school oil baron turned VC shark, silver fox with a gut and a reputation for quick loads.
Chapter 2: Harlan’s Den of Hidden Hungers 💋
The hallway reeked of polished oak and faint cigar smoke, footsteps muffled by thick carpet. Harlan’s door loomed; I knocked, heart pounding. His gravelly bark: “Enter.”
Balding pate gleamed under recessed lights, paunch straining his shirt. But those eyes—predatory, familiar from club days when he’d stuff hundreds in my garters. “Lena. Been too long since Pollen Club. Sit.”
I perched on the velvet chaise, legs parting just enough for my hem to tease lace tops. “Victor needs your vote on the AI merger. Persuade you?”
We bantered projections, risks. His palm landed warm on my knee, thumb circling. Logical, but counter to… His fingers crept higher as I uncrossed, skirt hiking to reveal garters snapping against sun-kissed skin. Pink thong barely veiled my slick folds.
He groaned, playing the straps like guitar strings. I tugged his fly; out sprang his monster—seven veiny inches, uncut, balls heavy as plums. No briefs, the old dog. Dropping low, knees sinking into plush rug, I engulfed him. Saliva poured, coating that throbbing length till my nose buried in wiry grays. Chin slapped his sack with each bob, gagging sweetly on his girth.
“Fuck, girl,” he rasped, hand clamping my skull. Hips bucked wild, primal rut. Cum blasted—rope after hot rope flooding my throat, salty-thick, spilling past lips. I slurped clean, finger-sweeping the dribble, sucking it down with a wink.
Pocketed his proxy vote papers. Kissed his stubbled cheek, tasting aftershave and sweat. “We’ll celebrate post-deal, Harlan.”
Staggering out, pussy aching empty. Soaked, throbbing. Wished he’d bent me over, plowed deep instead of that rushed throat-fuck. Primal need clawed my guts—I could’ve ridden a doorknob.
Jax held the limo door, nostrils flaring at my sex-perfume. Tent pitched in his slacks. I giggled, leg flashing bare thigh. “Next: Sofia’s villa.”
Traffic’s Tease
Miami crawled, lights mocking us green then red. Boredom mixed with fire; I eyed Jax’s broad shoulders. Legs splayed discreet, fingers dipping under thong, circling my swollen pearl. Juices smeared knuckles, scent blooming musky-sweet. Orgasm crested—phone shrilled. Snatched hand away like fire. Victor’s voice: merger updates. Nearly there.
Car halted. Grabbing briefcase, I half-stepped out—one heel grounded, other in. Jax gawked upskirt at drenched thong clinging like second skin. Oops indeed. His bulge strained obscenely; I licked lips slow.
Chapter 3: Sofia’s Sultry Surrender
Villa sprawled beachfront, less sterile tower—open arches, hibiscus tang in humid air, waves crashing rhythmic. Receptionist waved me to Sofia’s office: bamboo walls, ceiling fans whirring lazy.
Sofia Reyes, fiery Latina VP from rival firm—curvy firecracker, raven locks cascading, crimson lips smirking. Mid-thirties, DDs tenting silk blouse, hips swaying lethal.
“Lena, mi amor.” Handshake lingered electric, palms damp. “Sandy to friends. Ditch the formal shit.”
She perched desk-edge, thighs parting deliberate. Skirt rode sinful high. I mirrored, panties sodden. Words blurred—amendments, clauses—till she husked, “Smart girl. Leave Victor, join me. Perks… endless.”
I sank to knees, nose diving her crotch. Inhaled deep—that ripe, tangy nectar. Yanked lace aside, devoured her bald slit. Tongue speared folds, lapping pearl, chin grinding her heat. “Missed this pussy,” I moaned into her wetness.
“Dios, Lena—tongue deeper!” Hands fisted my hair, hips grinding savage. She erupted—a gushing torrent, squirting face, hair, dress drenched in her squirt. Gasping for air, I shoved free, sputtering salty-sweet flood.
Sofia grinned feral, yanking me to rug. Sixty-nine frenzy: her mouth vacuumed my clit, fingers plumbing ass and cunt. I screamed into her, waves crashing us both twice—bodies slick, trembling. Third peak shattered me, inner walls milking her digits.
Bathroom cleanup: her loaner top too tight, nipples diamond-hard poking through; mini-skirt barely butt-covering, no panties—lips puffing air on every step, juices trickling thighs. Kiss bruised lips goodbye. She pocketed my thong trophy.
Strut to limo: skirt flipping naughty, cheeks flashing, pussy winking Jax. He swallowed hard, door slamming after me. Skirt hiked waist-high now, bare ass on leather, cunt leaking shameless.
“Jax,” I purred, legs wide. “Find alley. I need cock. Now.” Primal hunger overrode sense—had to be filled, stretched, claimed.
Chapter 4: Jax’s Raw Rampage 🔥
Jax’s eyes blazed rearview, tires screeching into shadowed garage under palms. He killed engine, vaulted back—six-four of corded power, cargos tented monstrous. Door flew; he hauled me out, slamming against limo hood. Mouth crushed mine, tongue invading brutal, tasting Sofia’s remnants mixed with mine.
Skirt shredded up; his paw mauled my tits, pinching peaks till I yelped. “Been dreaming this,” he growled, zipper rasping. Cock sprang—nine inches veined fury, pierced tip glinting. Balls hung low, musky promise.
Bent me over hood, cheeks spread wide. Tongue lashed my ass first, rimming deep while fingers churned cunt. “Dripping slut,” he rumbled. Then—thrust. Piercing scraped walls divine agony, bottoming cervix. I howled, nails gouging metal.
Pounded merciless—hips slapping ass thunderous, sweat mingling, garage echoing grunts. Primal beast unleashed: me bucking back, demanding harder. He flipped me, legs hooked shoulders; plowed vertical, balls smacking clit.
“Fuck me raw, Jax!” Climax ripped—vision white, squirting his abs. He roared, flooding womb—cum gushing hot, overflowing thighs. Collapsed panting, his weight tender now, lips soft on sweat-slick skin.
“Victor’s waiting,” I whispered, guilt flickering then drowned in afterglow. Relationship shifted—Jax no mere driver. Bond sealed in seed.
Return to the Tower
Limo purred back; cum leaked steady, scent thick. Phone buzzed—Victor: Penthouse, now. More errands? Soaked clothes clung transparent, tits outlined lewd.
Chapter 5: Victor’s Primal Tribunal
Elevator ascent eternity, body humming post-fuck haze. Door opened—Victor alone, Kira gone. Eyes raked me: disheveled, braless peaks, skirt suspect. Sniffed air heavy with sex.
“Productive?” Amusement curled lip. He circled predator-slow. Truth spilled—Harlan’s vote, Sofia’s amends, Jax’s alley ravage.
Laugh barked dark. “Good girl. But reports say you’re primal wild today.” Hand cupped chin, thumb tracing cum-flake lip. “Show me.”
Pushed to knees; his cock loomed—eleven inches arrogant, pre-cum beading. Worshipped slow: tongue veins, balls nursed gentle then savage. Deepthroated till tears, gag reflex conquered.
He lifted, tossed couch like ragdoll. Legs splayed; face-planted my cunt, devouring remnants—Jax’s load slurped greedy. “Tastes earned.” Fingers three deep, prostate-milking ass simultaneous.
Rode him reverse: walls stretched obscene, piercing? No—his flare nudged G divine. Bounced feral, ass clapping his thighs, tits wild. He gripped hips bruising, thrusting up primal savage.
Orgy brewed—door knocked; Harlan stumbled in, cued by Victor. Joined: old cock throat-fucked while Victor railed. Sofia arrived next, strapon from villa bag. Pegged my ass double-stuffed—cocks, toy, airtight bliss.
Peaks chained endless: squirted arcs hitting ceiling, bodies oil-slick grinding. Harlan popped first, painting tits; Sofia fisted from behind, making squirt fountain; Jax burst in late, claiming ass last. Victor finished womb-deep, primal roar echoing mine.
Piled heap: breaths ragged, skin fevered, scents orgasmic soup. Tenderness bloomed—Victor’s arm around me, Jax’s hand thigh-gentle. Guilt? Faded. Power, connection forged in flesh.
The Aftermath Pact
Dawn crept, summit deals locked. Lena Voss no mere aide—queen in this primal court. Conflicts resolved not paper, but bodies entwined. Wetness lingered, promising more.
Chapter 6: Echoes of Endless Crave 💋
Weeks blurred post-summit. Victor’s empire swelled—mergers sealed, rivals crushed. My role evolved: boardroom siren, extracting whispers mid-thrust.
Jax became lover-shadow, stealing moments in garages, beaches. Sofia texted nudes, plotting visits. Harlan’s quickies fueled nostalgia, his aged cock surprisingly tireless.
One night, penthouse redux: all gathered. Victor orchestrated—chains, whips light, senses overwhelmed. Blindfolded, teased edges: feathers clit, ice nipples, hot wax thighs. Then unleashed.
Wheel of depravity spun: DP’d Jax-Victor, Sofia’s squirt bath, Harlan’s load facial. Primal chants filled air—”Fuck me deeper!”—bodies symphony slick-slap, moans crescendo.
Collapsed dawn-lit, hearts synced. Vulnerability cracked open: Victor confessed empire’s loneliness; I admitted dancer scars, seeking worth beyond skin. Hugs over kisses, bonds soul-deep.
Miami faded rearview as jet whisked us north. Primal bargains struck eternal—pleasure, power, unexpected love tangled raw.
The end? Never. Hunger eternal, feeds anew.
