This chapter contains adult content. Reader discretion and restriction of access for those under 18 are recommended
001#
January 21, 2020. New York City, United States.
When Andy opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the voluptuous figure of a woman lying on top of him, her huge dense breasts crushed against his rock-hard abs. The heavy melons spilled out to the sides, flattened and deformed by their own weight. She slept with a satisfied smile, lips slightly parted, thick fleshy thighs intertwined with his, her pussy still wet and sticky brushing against his thigh.
Andy smirked smugly, his huge, semi-hard cock throbbing under the sheet as the memories of the night flooded back. He had fucked her like an animal, pounding her until her fat hips quivered and her tits bounced wildly. He had cum inside her three times, filling her womb until the semen dripped down her meaty thighs.
"Heh… that makes five sluts this week, and it's only Tuesday," he thought with a malicious, dominant grin, his cock hardening again just from the memory. A dark chuckle echoed in his mind as he carelessly caressed one of the sleeping woman's lewd fat tits, pinching the hardened nipple until she moaned unconsciously in her sleep.
"Mmmh… ahhn…"
Andrew Jonathan Collins, known as Andy Collins, was a 26-year-old stud working at a prestigious Wall Street investment firm. To anyone else it might seem stressful, but to him it was fucking paradise. His real job at the office was making women cum until they lost their minds, and he felt damn proud and lucky to have that position.
In the three years he has been working, had fucked every woman in the firm: secretaries with round tight asses, analysts with big tits spilling out of their blouses, uptight executives who ended up begging for his cock while screaming with their legs spread wide on his desk.
It earned him the nicknames "The Wolf" and "Patrick Bateman 2.0" among his colleagues, and he wore them like medals.
This was his life, and he wouldn't trade it for anything.
The thrill of the chase, the slow seduction until he broke their resistance, and the final conquest—when the woman turned into a dumb moaning bitch trembling under his cock—was what got him rock-hard every morning.
And today, like every day, he was already thinking about the next bitch.
The hangover clouded Andy's mind, barely recalling the girl sprawled across him, her thick, meaty thighs still tangled with his. They had met at the company party the night before, and things had escalated lightning-fast. He seduced her effortlessly, as always, and they ended up in a nearby hotel room, their sweaty, naked bodies grinding urgently as they devoured each other.
In the heat of his primal lust, she let slip that she was the CEO's daughter. Andy paused for a split second, wondering if it was wise to fuck the boss's daughter. But he dismissed the thought instantly; he was too lost in the raw heat of the moment, too absorbed in pounding into her over and over.
"That turns me on even more than the fact that the man who signs my paycheck is the same one whose daughter I'm pounding full of cum."
That thought made the conquest all the more satisfying. The risks only amplified the thrill.
But, whether it was the 12-year-old Macallan or his own indifference, his memory was hazy. All he could recall was that her name began with 'M'. What had remained vividly etched in his mind, however, were the heated details of their encounter the night before.
"Mmm… Andy," a soft moan escaped her lips as she slowly woke up. Her eyes fluttered open and immediately found Andy's, locking onto him. A warm, sleepy smile spread across her face as she looked at him with adoration.
"Good morning, my love..." she whispered tenderly.
A chill ran down Andy's spine the moment he heard the word "love."
With quick, deliberate movements, he untangled himself from her clingy arms and slipped out of the bed. He dressed in silence, pulling on the same clothes from the night before. The fabric still smelled of sex and her perfume.
"As much as I'd like to stay, I'm afraid I have to go," he said, rushing his goodbye as he headed straight for the door, clearly eager to escape the hotel room.
He reached the door in just a few strides, his hand already gripping the knob.
"Wait," the woman called out, quickly grabbing his arm just as Andy started to open the door. Still completely naked, with nothing covering her curvaceous body, she pleaded, "Can we at least have breakfast together?" Her face was full of anxiety and desperate hope.
Andy couldn't stand the thought of spending even one more minute with her, but he needed a clean exit. After all, she was the boss's daughter. So he did what he always did best: put on the charming gentleman mask.
"I'm sorry, but I really have to go," he replied with a warm, reassuring smile, gently caressing her cheek with tender care. "I don't want to get scolded for being late. But let me tell you — being with you is like seeing the world through new eyes. I hope we can see each other again soon. I like you."
Her cheeks flushed deep red at his empty words. Completely captivated by his charm, she smiled softly.
"Alright… goodbye, my love…"
They shared a tender, lingering kiss before he finally pulled away.
Andy stepped out of the hotel and the charming gentleman facade dropped instantly. A diabolical smile spread across his face as he sank deep into his thoughts.
"It was good fucking her, even if she's way too clingy. That creeped me feel out, honestly," he thought with a smirk. "Not my best night, but not a disaster either. At least those massive tits of hers made my cock throb with every thrust. I wonder who the hell she got those huge melons from."
After a ten-minute walk through the bustling streets, Andy arrived at Smith Capital Investments, ready for another day at the office. He settled into his desk on the 15th floor, his mind still wandering.
"Mr. Collins," a cold female voice said as she approached him.
She was Ashley, a mature woman of thirty-two, Vice President Smith's personal secretary and one of the most feared people in the entire office. Nobody dared to be late for a meeting with the VP, because that meant walking past her desk and enduring her cold blue stare, her flicker of disapproval and that dry, uptight-prude tone she used to correct everyone.
She always dressed with a neatness that bordered on ridiculous: long-sleeved shirt buttoned to the collar, pencil skirt. But underneath that office-nun façade there was pure walking sensuality, because the clothes did nothing to hide it.
The blue shirt was so tight on her that her enormous breasts strained it to the limit, and through the fabric her hard nipples and wide areolas showed shamelessly, looking ready to pop the buttons. The short navy pencil skirt clung to wide, fleshy hips and a huge, voluptuous ass that ate up all the fabric, barely covering anything.
Below that, her thick thighs were left bare, heavy and firm, rubbing together with every step, and stiletto heels clicked against the floor and turned heads around her. She wore her long black hair loose over her shoulders and a blue hairpin clipped to one side, the only ornament allowed in an outfit that kept screaming the opposite of what its owner preached.
"Mrs. Smith requires your immediate presence in her office," Ashley said with a serious, professional expression.
"Right now?" Andy asked.
"Yes, right now," Ashley replied in her usual cold, expressionless tone.
"Alright," Andy answered calmly.
"Please follow me," she said, turning her back to him. Every step forward made her enormous wobbling ass strain violently against the tight pencil skirt. The fabric was so stretched over her massive meaty cheeks that it looked like it could rip apart at any second. Her fat hips swayed hypnotically, the heavy globes flexing and jiggling with each click of her heels.
Most people would've felt their guts twist with stress the second they got summoned to the vice president's office, but Andy stayed completely calm. He already knew exactly what this was about. She probably just wanted another "private meeting."
"Heh… this horny bitch can't even wait," he thought with a low chuckle. Mrs. Smith was one of his regular fuck toys. Whenever her rich husband left her dripping and frustrated, she always dragged him into her office or the bathroom for a rough, quick fuck.
Just thinking about sliding back into that tight, soaked MILF pussy made Andy's thick cock twitch and start hardening inside his pants.
As Ashley led him down the empty hallway, with just the two of them there, Andy's eyes remained glued to the hypnotic sway of her fat ass under that ridiculously tight skirt. Each step made her meaty cheeks bounce and ripple visibly. A wicked grin spread across his face as he raised his voice:
"Ashley, how about we take a quick stop and have one of our 'special conversations' in the women's restroom?"
"....."
Ashley stopped halfway down the hallway and looked furiously back at Andy. Her usual cold expression finally cracked, causing a deep flush in her cheeks and her gaze to become nervous.
"I'm never having sex with you again. You never listen," she replied, her voice thick with anger and frustration.
Andy's lips curled into a mischievous, predatory smile. In three quick strides he closed the distance, wrapping his strong left arm around her slim waist and yanking her flush against his firm chest. His right hand immediately dropped to her massive plump ass, greedily grabbing a handful of soft, fleshy meat through the tight skirt and squeezing hard.
Ashley froze, her black eyes widening in disbelief. But her body betrayed her instantly — her thick thighs clenched together and a soft, stifled whimper escaped her lips: "Mmmh… nnh…"
Without breaking eye contact, Andy slid his hand lower, slipping two fingers under the hem of her tight pencil skirt. He pressed them firmly against her panties, right over her pussy, rubbing slow, deliberate circles over the already damp fabric. Ashley's breath hitched sharply, her hips twitching forward despite herself. Her cunt soaked through the thin material almost instantly, coating his fingers with warm, slick juices as he teased her swollen folds.
"Hnn… ahh…" a tiny, needy moan slipped out of her.
Andy pulled his fingers free, now glistening with her arousal, and held them up between their faces. Clear, sticky strings of her pussy juice stretched and dripped slowly. With his other hand, he yanked open his fly and pulled out his fully erect cock — long, thick, veiny, with that perfect upward curve, the swollen head already leaking precum.
"Do you really not want this?" he asked mockingly, grabbing Ashley's hand and pressing it against his hot, throbbing cock so she could feel how hard it was. "Look at it, Ashley. It's rock hard because of you. Just like always."
Ashley looked down. Andy's cock was imposing: thick at the base, perfectly shaped, and with that dangerous curve she knew would hit her most sensitive spot mercilessly. She felt her pussy clench hard, a fresh gush of wetness flooding her blue lace panties.
"Andy… please…" she whispered, but her voice had already become weak and pathetic as she unconsciously stroked his cock lightly.
***
Five minutes later, in the women's bathroom, in the last stall at the back, muffled wet moans could be heard. Ashley was on all fours over the toilet seat, moaning in complete surrender. Her pencil skirt had been hiked up to her waist, exposing her enormous fat gelatinous ass that jiggled with every thrust. Her black stockings were still on, but the crotch had been ripped open by Andy, leaving her dripping cunt fully exposed. Thick juices ran down her thighs as Andy's huge thick veiny cock slammed in and out of her stretched hole, stretching her wide.
Andy delivered a hard, sharp spank to one of those massive cheeks.
Slap!
Her ass bounced like jelly and she let out a choked scream.
"Ahhh—fuck!"
"What was it you said earlier, Miss 'I'll never have sex with you again'?" he mocked in a low, cruel voice while ripping her black blouse open and tearing off her bra. He grabbed her huge dense bare tits with both hands, roughly squeezing them and pinching her hard nipples until she arched her back. "And now look at you… on all fours like a cheap whore in the office bathroom. You love playing the ice queen in front of everyone, but deep down you're dirtier than a mechanic's hands."
He yanked her hair back hard with one hand, forcing her head up while he sped up his thrusts, burying his cock to the hilt with every slam of his hips. The filthy sound of flesh smacking flesh filled the stall— Plap! Plap! Plap! —mixed with the wet squelching of her soaked cunt swallowing every inch.
"Nngh… ahhh… ohhh fuck… harder…" Ashley moaned uncontrollably, her ass wobbling, her heavy tits bouncing in Andy's hands.
Andy gave her other cheek another equally hard spank.
Slap!
Then leaned over her back and growled into her ear: "That's it… scream like the slut you are. This fat slippery cunt was made to be used. You love being treated like this, don't you, office whore?"
Ashley could only answer with a long broken moan as her cunt clenched hard around Andy's thick cock, squirting more juices that dripped onto the bathroom floor.
Plap! Plap! Plap! Slap!
The exact moment Ashley saw Andy's thick cock spring free from his pants, she knew it was her undoing. That heavy, veiny monster swung out, already half-hard and leaking a string of precum, making her squeeze her thighs together on pure reflex… but it was already too late. Right now she was still getting fucked senseless by it, on all fours in the office bathroom stall, even though she had a boyfriend waiting for her at home.
Andy pounded into her hard, gripping her fat hips and burying every thick inch to the hilt. Ashley's already stretched, soaked pussy made an obscene wet squelching sound every time his cock slammed up against her cervix. She bit down on her own lip to keep from screaming too loud, but the moans still spilled out of her.
The women at the company talked about it during breaks, voices low and legs pressed tightly together just from the memory: "Andy's cock knows how to hit every single weak spot… it opens you up, stretches you out and reaches exactly where it drives you crazy. Once he puts it in you, there's no going back."
Ashley was proving them right with every thrust. That thick shaft rubbed her G-spot over and over, shoved against the mouth of her womb and made her legs shake. Her cunt clenched around Andy's fat shaft like it didn't want to let go, pouring juices that ran down her thighs and soaked her torn stockings.
"Fuck… this cock…" Ashley thought, face pressed against the stall wall, eyes half-lidded in pure pleasure. "My boyfriend has never gone this deep… never opened me up like this…"
Slap!
Andy cracked another hard smack across her jiggling ass and sped up, slamming into her until his balls slapped against her.
"That's it, office slut… take this dick you girls all gossip about."
Andy slammed into her harder, the wet plap-plap-plap of his thick cock driving deep into her dripping cunt filling the stall. Ashley's head dropped forward, eyes half-lidded from the relentless pounding… and then she saw it.
Her own reflection stared back at her from the still water in the toilet bowl. Flushed face, open mouth, mascara slightly smeared, looking completely wrecked while a fat cock stretched her open from behind. Something inside her snapped. The sight of herself like that—used, exposed, taking every inch—made her pussy clench hard around him.
"Ahhh… fuck… nnngh…!" she moaned, voice cracking. Her hips started pushing back on their own, greedy. "Deeper… please… don't stop… use me… fill me up… ahhh!"
She was gone. No more ice-queen attitude, just raw need. Every thrust dragged another broken moan out of her throat.
"Mmmhh—ahhh—yes… harder…!"
Andy grinned, feeling the proud office bitch finally melt completely under him. He gripped her thick hips and hammered her with short, brutal strokes until his cock throbbed hard.
Spurt~! Spurt~! Spurt~!
Thick ropes of cum blasted deep into her cunt, flooding her womb. Ashley cried out as the hot load kept pumping into her, overflow already leaking around his shaft.
Her legs gave out. She collapsed onto the cold bathroom floor, gasping, skirt still hiked up, torn stockings framing her used pussy. White cum slowly dripped out of her stretched hole and onto the tiles in long, sticky strands while she lay there panting, completely spent.
At that moment the bathroom door clicked open softly. A blonde woman with brown eyes slipped inside on tiptoe, looking for the last stall at the back so she could smoke in secret. Brittney Hatchett, the 22-year-old intern, huge natural tits and a thick, heavy ass that strained against her office skirt. She already had a cigarette between her lips and was pulling out her lighter when she pushed the stall door open.
Her eyes went wide. The cigarette dropped from her mouth and rolled across the floor.
For a long, heavy second nobody moved. The air felt thick. Ashley was still sprawled on the tiles, panting, thick white cum leaking from her stretched pussy and dripping down her thighs. Andy stood there with his fat cock still rock-hard, glistening and dripping fresh cum from the tip. Brittney's hand flew to her mouth.
"What the fuck…?"
Andy didn't even flinch. He looked at the blonde like this was the most normal thing in the world.
"Get on your knees, cock-sucker," he ordered, voice calm and absolute. "I want my dick clean before I go fuck Vice President Smith."
Brittney froze, heart hammering. She swallowed hard, staring at that thick, juicy cock still shiny with another woman's cum. Something inside her snapped. She dropped to her knees right in front of him, yanked her shirt down, and let her enormous natural tits spill out—fat, heavy, pink nipples and wide areolas already stiff. Without another word she opened her mouth and took him in.
Glk… schlurp… gluuuck…
She sucked hard, cheeks hollowing, tongue swirling around the head, cleaning every drop of cum from the shaft.
"Yes, sir…" she whispered around his cock, voice already broken and needy. "I'll clean it… I'll be a good little slut… use my mouth however you want…"
Schlurp… glk-glk-glk… mmphh…
Andy gripped the back of her head with one hand and pushed her deeper, making her gag wetly around his thickness. With the other hand he casually scrolled through his phone, checking his schedule: 7 p.m. with Mrs. Hatchett—Brittney's own mother. 10 p.m. with Rita, the Hindu bimbo.
Brittney just kept sucking, loud and messy, spit and leftover cum running down her chin and onto her fat tits while she moaned like a complete whore.
***
Andy stepped out of the women's restroom with a smug, satisfied grin on his face. His cock was still half-hard as he casually tucked it back into his pants and zipped up, before strutting down the hallway as if he owned the entire building.
He walked with complete confidence down the hallway, as if nothing had happened. Everyone who passed by—men and women circulating in both directions—knew exactly what he had been doing in the women's restroom. Nobody dared say a word. They simply intuited it, treating him like an animal in heat, totally devoid of humanity, yet no one flinched at the sight.
The women stared openly with raw lust in their eyes, biting their lips. Several clenched their thighs together, clearly getting wet as they imagined themselves bent over in that room, moaning like bitches in heat. Their hungry eyes lingered on the obvious bulge in his pants.
The men burned with bitter envy and humiliation. Their jaws clenched tightly and their fists trembled at their sides as they stared at the thick, prominent bulge. Many felt their own pathetic cocks shrink in their pants, knowing they could never compare.
"Fucking lucky bastard…" one of them muttered under his breath, glaring with pure hatred as Andy walked past with that arrogant, dominant smirk on his face.
Quickly arriving at Mrs. Smith's office, ready for another session of hot adulterous sex, Andy opened the door without knocking.
There she stood, an unparalleled beauty facing the large window, talking on the phone. Andy waited patiently, his eyes devouring her from behind.
Amanda Smith, Vice President of Smith Capital Investments, was the definition of a walking wet dream. Her platinum-blonde hair fell in luxurious waves down her back. The tight red dress desperately clung to her voluptuous body, but what truly dominated the entire room were her monstrous, gigantic, obscenely huge breasts — colossal, dense, heavy melons that threatened to rip through the fabric with every breath. Her stiff nipples poked obscenely against the dress like two diamonds. Those titanic tits swayed and jiggled heavily with even the slightest movement.
Her massive, round ass looked even bigger in that dress, the short red skirt barely able to contain the fat, meaty cheeks that jiggled with raw weight.
"Yes, thank you, doctor," Amanda said, ending the call with a deep, tired sigh. "Haaah…"
Suddenly, Andy moved. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and greedily grabbed her huge dense breasts with both hands, squeezing the soft, overflowing flesh possessively.
Amanda shivered, a low moan escaping her lips: "Mmmh…"
"Did you call for me, Mandy?" he whispered seductively into her ear, his hot breath brushing her neck while his thumbs teased her hardened nipples.
Amanda was caught off guard, but only for a second. With a sharp movement, she broke free from his grip and spun around. Her hazel eyes burned with a mix of fury and desire as she raised her hand and delivered a hard, powerful slap across his face.
¡PAHH!
The loud crack echoed through the luxurious office, leaving a bright red mark on Andy's cheek.
Andy's expression shifted from surprise to confusion. "What the hell is going on?" he asked.
"What's going on?! You slept with my daughter Mia last night, even after I explicitly warned you not to!" Amanda exploded, her massive chest heaving with rage.
"Mia?... Oh… Yeah, yeah… So that's her name," Andy said casually, finally remembering the girl he had fucked and ditched that morning. "I should have guessed."
"I'm tired of you, Andy," Amanda said, her voice trembling with anger and anxiety. "Do you think you can fuck any woman you want without consequences?"
"You know exactly how I am, Mandy," Andy replied with a mocking smirk. "But I don't get why you're so mad. You and I have been fucking for years behind your husband's back. You're married and still spread your legs for me every chance you get."
"That's exactly why I called you here," Amanda replied, her voice breaking. Tears began falling down her cheeks as her shoulders shook.
"What are you trying to say, Mandy?" Andy asked, narrowing his eyes.
Amanda looked at the floor, crying softly. "I'm pregnant with your child, Andy..."
Andy froze for a brief second before responding with cold indifference: "Are you going to get an abortion?"
"It's too late for that," she replied. "My husband found out about the pregnancy… and he thinks it's his. He's thrilled about becoming a father of a boy."
Andy stayed silent as Amanda continued with guilt and shame in her voice: "I tricked him… I told him we had sex one night when he came home drunk. He believed me."
"So what's the problem then?" Andy asked, completely unfazed.
"What's the problem?!" Amanda cried, staring at him in disbelief. "I haven't had sex with my husband in over a year! There's no way it's his. I don't want to lie to him about this baby!"
Andy let out a cold laugh. "After years of cheating on him with me, now you're worried about lying? Don't be a hypocrite, Mandy."
Tears streaming down her face, Amanda looked at him desperately. "What are we going to do, Andy? What are we going to do about our baby?"
"Our baby?" Andy scoffed. "I don't give a fuck. Just tell him it's his and keep living your rich life. I'm taking a break."
He turned around and walked toward the door.
"Please, wait…!" Amanda begged, her voice cracking. She quickly reached out and grabbed Andy's arm tightly, desperation clear in her grip.
Andy stopped and turned around with clear annoyance on his face. For a brief second, he saw it — the exact same expression Mia (her daughter) had given him this morning in the hotel when she begged him to stay for breakfast. The same needy eyes, the same clingy tone, the same pathetic dependency.
A wave of disgust and irritation washed over him. He hated this type of woman the most — the ones who got attached and started demanding things after he fucked them.
He roughly yanked his arm free from her grasp.
Andy ignored her completely and walked out of the office without saying another word.
As he walked out of the building, he muttered to himself: "Wow, that was intense. I haven't even had breakfast yet. I should grab a black coffee at Starbucks."
As he crossed the street, his phone rang. The screen showed "Mom." He was about to hang up when a deafening roar filled the air.
CRASH!!!
A Japanese delivery truck called Truck-kun slammed into him with brutal force, launching his body several meters through the air. The sickening sound of metal crushing flesh echoed across the street.
"Oh my God!!!"
"An ambulance!!! Call an ambulance!!!"
People around him erupted into chaos — some screaming, others already recording the bloody scene with their phones. In an instant, Andy Collins' life ended in a pathetic, bloody mess on the asphalt.
Perhaps as just punishment for his sins.
It was karma.