Thread: The Grand Party! (Jack Stalker and  Susel)

Waiting for his answer Kristen could not help but glance a few times down again. Seeing the distinct bulge in his pants distracted her a great deal and she had to concentrate to let her eyes not rest in his groin area. Obviously he felt attracted to her and though the young brunette was not particularly vain, she still knew that her outward appearance was considered beautiful. She knew that her gracile body was something that men liked watching, imagining her thin long legs around their waist. Yet, usually they tried to hide their desire, only peek at her frame when they thought she would not notice. Mr. Alba was different. He watched her shamelessly, almost challenging her with his frankness. Kristen had trouble figuring out how much of it was the game that was played when one was giving oneself to politics and how much was true lust. In the past she had made some experiences and Kristen could safely say that she liked sex. Nonetheless her former partners had treated her gently and it was safe to say that the skinny girl with the wild brown mane has never had a partner that would give her the rougher approach. It was nothing that she had ever thought about as people tend to not miss what they do not know. In spite of that Kristen was wondering how big Mr. Alba's dick actually was and for an instant the thought of him inside her crossed her mind. The thought was pushed away when he raised his voice again and she listened to him attentive. His talk about her father being a figurehead with no real power let some anger rise up inside her. Sure the lobby behind the scenes had a say in whatever was going on, but he made it sound like her father would be a puppet. Family pride prevented her from even considering that. Of course he would have power, his decisions would have an affect on the masses. She ignored the need to give the muscular black man a furious facial expression. Kristen's thoughts were dragged into a different direction suddenly when she felt his big hand on her thigh. The tips of his fingers applying the slightest pressure, which caused her to actually feel nervous. The part about the smoke screen was true, but how could he know? Was it that obvious or did Mr. Alba had more information than he should have? Like so many things in the life of the Steward family the visible veneer did not represent the truth underneath it. The fact that Mr. Alba was in possession of that information was dangerous for her father and Kristen knew that. There was also plenty of dirt to dig up about John Steward. Even though the patriarch had always been careful, his daughter was still able to put two and two together on many things. If certain people would want to ruin her father and her family legacy, it most certainly would be possible to do so. When the tall business man asked her if she would jeopardise her father's chances by being foolish, she slowly shook her head. His words had drilled into her head rigorously and she almost had forgotten about his hand on her thigh. Only when he moved it towards the hem of her black dress, she was reminded of the delicate situation she was in. Kristen's emerald eyes looked down again, eyeing the huge bump in Mr. Alba's pants. The fabric stretched to the maximum, it made her wonder if it hurt him. If so he was not showing any signs of it. The sound of his glass rolling on the small fancy table made her head turn towards it. Her fragile stature jerked a little when it smashed to the ground, covering the wooden floor in shards. Mr. Alba had a way of getting back her full attention within seconds by grabbing her other thigh as well. His sizable hands almost covering all of her legs easily. She glanced down briefly before looking back into his eyes, reading the hunger and the greed in there. One hand of his reached out quickly and threw her glass to the floor and just like with his glass it filled the silent room with noise that seemed inept in an art gallery. Mr. Al, Kristen whispered and could not even finish his name before her voice faded out. She felt her heart beat faster and a strange mix of fear and excitement was creeping up its way inside her. Her slender legs opened unconsciously to a certain extent when his hand slid in between them commandingly. With every breath of hers more intense than the one before, Kristen waited almost impatiently on what his hands would do next. He exposed almost the full length of her legs when he pushed her dress upwards, but it was his other hand that got out an audible reaction from the thin brunette. It was his massive hand that wrapped itself around her tender neck, administering mild pressure. She sucked in air and groaned almost imperceptible. Kristen's lower body jerked a little when his fingers found her panties and immediately brushing her most intimate body part. Being in his grip made her feel like his toy, like he could do as he please with her and there was nothing she could do about it, which was probably exactly how it was. She felt powerless inside his grasp and at the same time there was a tingling emanating from between her legs under the burden of his finger. His words were barely distinguishable for her ears, yet the message hit home despite her distraction. His huge hand groping her small breast sent new waves of arousal through her body. When he wrenched her sensitive nipple she winced and let out another whispered moan. Under the renewed force of his hand her legs opened wider and after he commanded her to open them once more she extended the angle of them close to ninety degrees, allowing him full access to her pussy that was starting to get wet underneath her designer panties. The repeating use of the word cunt by Mr. Alba reinforce her feeling of being a toy for him, yet it only increased the tingling inside her body. Kristen had never heard words like whore, slut or bitch applied to herself. People had always been polite towards her, but the tall black business man throw them around without any hesitation, leaving no doubt who was in charge, as if she had needed a reminder. Yes Mr. Alba, she mumbled in between moans and sighs, which were coming out more and more as his finger had started to penetrate her nether regions. Though only entering her marginally she could still feel her pussy cloak his finger tightly. She was getting wetter and wetter with each thrust his finger made and slowly the moistness was moving through her lace panties. Kristen had heard his demand and despite a tiny part of her mind protesting against the inappropriateness, she still let her arms reach out towards his waist. Her delicate fingers fumbled along his belt for a few seconds before a metallic click confirmed her successful efforts in opening it. The button was undone quicker and carefully the brunette pulled down the zipper, relieving his pants of the immense pressure his already erected cock had caused it. Like a person hypnotized Kristen's hands moved determined. All the while moaning gently into the vast space that was the art gallery of the Steward mansion. With a pull that nearly suggested greed, she freed his massive cock from its shorts. She sneaked a quick peek and gasped in shock. He was enormous. Easily the size of her forearm if not bigger. Cautiously her right hand reached out and the pale fingers blanketed Mr. Alba's dick. The skin felt tender, but simultaneously it was rock hard with thick veins that gave it a semblance of power and strength. Leisurely Kristen began to jerk off the gigantic black cock, which her fingers could not even fully encompass.