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

With her own body laying motionless bent over the table in the art gallery the only movement came from Mr. Alba, who apparently was only spurred on to fuck her even harder when she climaxed. His heavy thick cock hammered into her exhausted snatch and each thrust caused another groan to leave her mouth. Her body was numbed by her orgasm and his powerful thrusts felt not as painful as before, though he still gave her the feeling of a useless fucktoy as he was pounding her immobile flesh viciously. When Mr. Alba proclaimed his intention to come inside her, Kristen was about to protest, but was silenced by his renewed grip in her thick brown mane. Before she could even utter a single word she felt him tense up. The fat long rod inside her pulsed noticeable inside her tight little cunt and the warmth of his seed filled up her inside. After a few more jerks of his member she sensed the sticky cum pouring out of her pussy. It was unbelievable how much of it came out, the first stream already running down her inner thigh towards her knee. Kristen panicked, she had told him not to come inside her, told him she was not on the pill. What would she do if she got pregnant? Her thoughts were disrupted by a few more jolts of his now softening cock inside her before he slowly pulled it out of her now spunk covered cunt. Still unable to move her body she just stayed put for the moment, taking in what just had happened, while more streams of his seed were starting to run down her legs. Mr. Alba made it clear that he would only continue her father in his ambition to become Senator, if she would obey him and make her fragile body available to him whenever he wanted. Originally Kristen had thought this would be a matter of one and done, now however the muscular black man brought it to her notice that she had been mistaken. He also told her that she needed black cock. Doubting it at first, as she was unable to imagine herself being able to handle more of the treatment he had just given her, she had to admit to herself that the orgasm she had was way beyond anything comparable. It felt like a normal climax on steroids. Already her mind toyed with the sweet temptation of experiencing that feeling again. Yet it was unlikely that it would happen soon as the brunette was still not in control of her body. She still layed bent over the table, her dress still pulled up over her hips, her bare ass exposed and thick streams of Mr. Alba's seed still flowing out of her cunt. She listened eagerly to his words as he was starting to make himself presentable again. He was already ordering her around, deciding her near future and leaving no room for protest or rejection. It was the business man in him talking again. When he said he would finance her the next rally of her father Kristen smiled a crooked grin. He would be pleased to hear that she had secured Mr. Alba's support, pleased that his lovely daughter had charmed the pants off the big bad black business man. At least that Kristen would make him believe, as the true nature of her and Mr. Alba's encounter was something that was better kept far away from her father. She felt his hands pulling down her dress and only an instant later he pulled her up to her feet. Her knees still barely able to support her weight. I understand Mr. Alba!, she stared at him and tried to convey composure. He turned away and left the art gallery, leaving her alone in the huge room. She scanned the area for her ripped panties and found them not too far away from all the broken pieces of bottles and glasses. With slow unsteady steps she narrowed the space between herself and the piece of lace that had once been expensive designer underwear. Each step made her feel the gooey mess between her legs, a few streams had even ran as low as her shins. After what felt like an eternity she reached the spot and bend down to grab the treacherous piece of fabric, crumpling it between her delicate fingers. The way back to the door seemed to be even longer and she still felt the pulsing between her legs with each stride. Stumbling slowly through the hallway, Kristen hoped to reach her room without encountering anyone. To her horror it only took a few yards until she ran into Sebastian, one of the stewards that worked permanently in the Steward mansion. She saw the concern on his face as he saw her feeble attempt to walk like a normal person and decided to speak first, before he could ask her questions she did not want to be asked. Sebastian, I had a little accident with the drinks in the art gallery, would you be so kind and take care of the mess? Please be careful though, there is a lot of broke glass., she added in her high musical voice, smiling at him innocently while she was hiding her panties behind her back. The servant stared at her in confusion at first, before he glanced down at her legs briefly, his confusion increasing. Kristen knew that he had seen the spunk on her legs but kept her silence. Sure Miss Kristen, don't worry about anything!, he finally answered and was already on his way towards the art gallery. When she heard the door shut behind him she continued to lurch about the hallway until she arrived at the stairs and made her way up towards the second floor. Back in her room she let herself fall down onto the bed in exhaustion, only to jump back up right away, remembering the mess between her legs. She tried to avoid having it transfer to her sheets and therefore she stumbled into the bathroom. The dress went flying and Kristen grabbed a cloth, cleaning up the cum of Mr. Alba from her legs. Afterwards she also focused on her pussy itself, ridding it from all the juices that had been exchanged. When she checked herself in the mirror the brunette decided that her makeup could use some touch up and she grabbed her cosmetics bags before getting to work. The weakness from her knees slowly started to fade away with every minute that was passing and when she was done in the bathroom she was almost able to walk normal again. Glancing the time in the corner of her eye, Kristen realized that she had to hurry up. Mr. Alba had set a time limit after all and she was keen to be punctual. Quickly she picked another dress out of her walk-in closet and started to put it on. It was befitting for a visit in one of Mr. Albas high-class casinos and it also suited the high heels she was still wearing. Ready to go she checked the time again. Fuck!, she groaned and hurried downstairs already running late. With still shaky steps she arrived at the party again and squeezed through the guests towards her father. With a look of surprise on his face he greeted her. Kristen honey, you have changed!, he blurted out and looked her up and down, searching for a sign of what might had happened with that bastard Idris Alba. Well father, I had a little accident with the drinks in the art gallery while I was showing our precious pieces to Mr. Alba and I spilled it on my dress., she smiled confidently and continued. I am happy to tell you that he had assured me that he will finance your next rally and that you have his support. Isn't that great?, Kristen exclaimed excitedly. Her father narrowed his eyes to slits for a second and then the look of confusion found its way on his face. Thatis..umahhgreat, he stuttered and then slowly started to realize that this meant he would be unstoppable. His campaign would be successful and there was no one to stop him. His face changed to a grin and he embraced his daughter in a tight bearhug. Well done Kristen, I knew I could count on you. The worries about what might have been done to his precious daughter disappeared and John Steward smiled like a fool for several more seconds before releasing Kristen from his grasp. So where is that devil? I want to shake his hand., he asked and started to look around. Well he had to go father, some emergency in one of his casinos. I am actually on my way out too, as he had offered to return the favour and show me around at the casino. Their eyes locked briefly and Kristen thought for a second that her father would speak out against her plan, but only nodded slowly. Ok, behave and do not gamble away all our money dear., he said while forcing himself to smile. I'll try daddy. Oh by the way, Mr. Alba had a good idea regarding our art gallery, I hope you don't mind that I am planning on a few changes., she smiled a disarming smile at him before turning around. I'll be back later!, Kristen called over her shoulder and disappeared between the party guests. John Steward stood there dumbfounded. He would become Senator and that was great. Yet he could not shake the feeling something was going on with Kristen and Mr. Alba. The gossip about the black business man rang inside his head and briefly he imagined his filthy hands over his daughters body. Disgusted by the thought of it, he physically shook his head. What if it was true, what if Mr. Alba was only supporting him in order to get his hands on Kristen? It was wrong, of that John Steward was sure. He was also sure that he wanted to be Senator and with Mr. Alba's money and endorsement that would happen without a doubt. The head of the Steward family turned around and engaged in conversation again, putting the nasty vile pictures inside is head aside. The skinny brunette with the wild mane was hurrying along the hallway. Though she was almost walking completely ordinary again, she felt the pounding she had received earlier in every cell of her body. Preferably she would walk at a slower pace but she was late. 9 minutes late to be precise. Mr. Alba was waiting in his limo and he had already made it clear what would await her if she would be late. Finally she reached the front door and slipped out of the mansion. By the time she arrived at his limousine she was 11 minutes late. A valet opened the door for her and took her hand to help her enter the luxurious car. The door closed behind her and she looked over towards Mr. Alba, who was busy checking something on his phone. Sorry that I am late Mr. Alba., she tried to soothe the tall man. I had to clean up a quite significant amount of fluid from my body., she continued and threw him a dazzling smile before crossing her legs pointedly. He had demanded to see her legs and here she was, displaying them, displaying the soft pale skin, displaying her obedience. Which casino will you show me? I have heard the El Dorado his the most pompous one, while the Le Jardin is where all the really really rich people are gambling. Her eyes stared into his expectantly.