Chapter 1: The Gala Heist
The grand ballroom of the Metropolitan Museum was a goddamn fuck-fest waiting to happen, the crystal chandeliers dangling like massive swinging balls, casting a sleazy glow over the whores and studs in their slutty gowns and tight tuxes. New York's elite sluts mingled like they were at a glory hole party, laughter sounding like moans, glasses clinking like cocks slapping wet pussies.
Damian Fraser stalked through the crowd like a hung bull ready to breed, his massive body stuffing his tux, the fabric straining against his thick, veiny cock that throbbed at every sight of tit or ass. At thirty-eight, he was a fucking machine — tall, ripped from pounding NYPD cunts and now dominating courtroom bitches, his dark hair messed like he'd just face-fucked someone, blue eyes drilling holes like they could make a slut cum with a stare.
Beside him strutted Lenai Devereaux, his nympho partner and cock-hungry tease, her fat tits and juicy ass crammed into a black gown that begged to be torn off, the fabric hugging her like it wanted to finger her holes. At thirty-five, she was a dripping ex-CIA whore whose greedy cunt craved destruction, her auburn hair flowing like cum trails, green eyes slitted with lust that spotted every hard dick or sloppy slit in the room.
Their "partnership" had been a filthy bang waiting for two years, kicked off with a case where they almost fucked raw in a stakeout, her screams echoing as his fingers fisted her hole. But they held back — Damian from a cum-slut ex who ass-fucked him, then betrayed him in the NYPD, leaving his massive cock distrustful; Lenai from a traitor lover who double-stuffed her then sold her out, making her ache for savage hole-filling.
"Spot any cunts up to shit?" Damian growled, his voice making her pussy gush, his arm brushing hers, the touch sending jolts to her swollen clit.
"Not yet," she moaned, lips plump and ready for sucking cock, her smile promising to drain his balls dry. The contact was innocent, but it made her nipples hard as rocks against the gown, her cunt juicing like a faucet at the thought of his enormous dick.
The centerpiece was the ancient Egyptian amulet, jewels shining like jizz on tits, legend saying it granted eternal fucking to its owner — a dirty lie in this room of horny fucks. Elena Voss, the hostess, slinked through like a queen cum-slut, tall and stacked with raven hair perfect for pulling during doggy, violet eyes dripping fuck-lust. She wore a gown from her empire — a whore-tease of "imaginary lingerie" that vibrated clits to squirting madness, fabrics clinging to dripping pussies, paired with outfits for public ass-fucking and exposure. But Damian knew the depraved truth: shipments hid artifacts, crossing borders to black-market whores in Europe, linking to Geneva fakes where forgeries got hammered out, and Tuscany revenges where tycoons ass-reamed each other.
Elena approached, scent like fresh-fucked cunt, her hand extending, fingers brushing Damian's like she wanted to stroke his shaft. "Fraser, Devereaux. Pleasure's all mine," she purred, voice like a dildo buzzing low, her grip lingering, promising a sloppy threesome.
Damian gripped back, cock throbbing. "Mutual. Your shit's addictive — makes sluts squirt."
Lenai's cunt pulsed with jealousy, her hand slipping to Damian's arm, nails digging like she wanted to claw his back during a pounding. "Heard your toys make bitches scream in Monaco."
Elena's laugh was throaty, eyes flicking between them like she wanted to film them fucking. "Screams are my specialty. Want a demo?" Her gaze on Damian made Lenai's clit throb with rage and need.
Before answering, the lights flickered, alarms blared like a slut in climax. Case smashed, amulet gone. Panic surged like a bukkake, guests scrambling. Damian seized Lenai's hand, fingers interlocking like his cock in her throat, pulling her through, body shielding, his hardness grinding her ass in the crush.
They burst into a hall, spotting the thief. Who they chased to the streets. The cool air hitting them like a slap on wet ass. The thief leaped into a car that was screeching away. Damian and Lenai halted, breaths ragged like post-orgy pants. "Plate?" he snarled, hand still holding hers, thumb rubbing like on her clit.
"Partial—EKV," she panted, tits heaving, gown shifting to bare thigh lace, her nipples begging to be sucked.
They ducked into an alley, in a narrow space, forcing closeness. Damian pinned her against a brick wall. With her body as a barrier, their breaths were mingling like pre-cum. His hand shoved to her thigh, fingers ripping under her gown, plunging into her soaking, gaping cunt, thrusting hard, making her scream like a whore as she squirted on his hand.
Damian pinned Lenai against the cold brick wall of the alley, his massive body pressing her there like he owned her. The narrow space forced them chest to chest, her fat tits crushed against his hard pecs, her nipples already stiff and begging for attention. His hand shoved under her torn gown, fingers ripping the lace panties aside and plunging straight into her soaking, greedy cunt.
"Fuck, you're dripping," he growled, voice low and filthy as two thick fingers thrust deep inside her, curling hard against that spot that made her knees buckle. Lenai moaned like a whore, her head falling back against the wall, her hips bucking wildly against his hand.
"Damian... oh god, yes," she gasped, her voice breaking as he finger-fucked her fast and rough, the wet squelching sound echoing in the dark alley. His thumb found her swollen clit and rubbed it in tight, vicious circles, making her squirt a little with every thrust. Her juices ran down his wrist, soaking his sleeve.
He leaned in, biting her neck hard enough to leave a mark, sucking the skin while his fingers pounded her cunt. "You like that? Getting finger-fucked in an alley like a dirty slut while the cops are right around the corner?"
Lenai whimpered, nodding frantically, her walls clenching around his fingers as another orgasm built fast. "Yes... fuck, I'm your slut... don't stop..."
He added a third finger, stretching her wide, pounding her harder until she came with a strangled scream, her cunt gushing around his hand, thighs shaking as she squirted all over his palm and down her legs. Damian didn't stop, milking every last pulse from her until she was gasping and trembling against him.
Only then did he pull his fingers out, bringing them to her mouth. "Clean them," he ordered.
Lenai obeyed instantly, sucking his fingers clean, tasting her own cum with hungry moans, her eyes locked on his the whole time. The sight made his cock throb painfully against his pants.
The sirens were getting closer. Damian grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the alley. They hailed a cab, slipping into the back seat like nothing had happened. But the moment the door closed, his hand was back under her dress, fingers sliding into her still-soaked cunt, slowly fucking her as the cab drove through the city.
Lenai bit her lip to stay quiet, but soft little moans escaped anyway as he curled his fingers inside her, thumb teasing her clit the entire ride to the airport. By the time they reached the private jet, she was dripping down her thighs again, desperate and aching.
They barely made it into the cabin before Damian had her bent over the leather table, gown shoved up around her waist. He freed his massive cock, thick and veiny, the head already leaking pre-cum. Without a word he slammed into her from behind, burying himself balls-deep in one brutal thrust.
Lenai cried out, her cunt stretching around his girth, the sudden fullness making her see stars. Damian didn't give her time to adjust — he fucked her hard and fast, hips slapping against her ass, the sound echoing through the luxury cabin as the jet took off.
"Fuck, your cunt feels so good," he growled, one hand fisting her hair, the other gripping her hip as he pounded into her. "So tight... so fucking wet for me."
Lenai moaned like a whore, pushing back to meet every thrust, her tits bouncing with the force of it. "Harder... fuck me harder, Damian... use me."
He did. He railed her relentlessly, the table creaking under them, her juices dripping down her thighs with every deep stroke. When she came again, screaming his name, her walls milking his cock, Damian groaned and filled her with thick ropes of cum, thrusting through his orgasm until he was spent.
They collapsed onto the couch, still connected, his cock softening inside her as they caught their breath. The jet climbed higher, New York disappearing below.
Lenai turned her head, kissing him lazily. "We really should talk about the case..."
Damian chuckled, his hand sliding between her legs to play with her cum-filled cunt. "In a minute. Right now, I want to feel you again."
