Page 435 of Forbidden Billionaires: Vol. 8
And it wasn’t like I was really doing anything wrong.
There were like five different rules that showed I was clearly in the right here.
First and foremost…Rule #8: If a man has eight abs and eight inches, he may not be refused.
No one was questioning the eight inches. And I was pretty sure he had eight abs.
I opened my eyes to count as I bobbed up and down on his cock. One, two…eight…nine! TEN?!
Did humans even have that many ab muscles? Or was the Banana King some sort of immortal being?
Did immortals have scars? Because he had a few. Including one on his hand. Just like Officer King.
Wait a second!
Officer King. Banana King.
Well hot damn!I knew those cops looked like strippers!
I stopped sucking him off for a second to lick those yummy abs. But when I got up to his massive pecs, I noticed something else.
A shoulder tattoo.
God, could this guy get any hotter?
The tattoo looked so familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. Was it a copy of the Rock’s tattoo? More importantly…who cared?
I went back to sucking him. But not too much. My plan was to prove I could deepthroat him and then let him fuck the shit out of me.
I’d already made the Banana Bros and Slavanka’s guy cum too fast. I didn’t want to repeat my mistake a third time. Especially with the Banana King. To not feel his massive cock inside of me would be a heinous crime.
He pushed against the back of my throat, so I shifted slightly and took him farther. But I still wasn’t all the way down.
Gah! How embarrassing.
All the other strippers had run away, so all eyes were on me. This was my time to shine. And I was blowing it. Both literally and figuratively.
I got up and made a show of straddling my chair, facing away from him. Then I leaned back so I was looking at him upside down.
The Banana King was more than happy to put his package on my face.
I sucked his balls for a second while I stroked him.
He flexed and all the girls in the crowd cheered.
Show off.
And then he grabbed his cock and shoved it down my throat. Most girls would have gagged. Or died. Especially the stupidbirthday girl. But me? I’d been practicing for this my entire life. I took him all the way into my throat without any problems. Easy peasy.Thank you, banana deepthroating practice.
He grabbed my head with his massive hands and fucked my throat. The whole time I was just picturing how amazing it would feel when he did this same thing to my pussy.
It was going to be heaven.
In one swift motion, he reached down, grabbed my waist, and flipped me onto his shoulder tattoo.
Wait a second!I knew where I had seen that design before. It wasn’t from the Rock. It was from that picture that Ghost had given me. The one of Locatelli’s enforcer.
Oh damn.Silly me, thinking that the Banana King couldn’t get any hotter. On the hotness scale, he’d just gone from an 11 to like a…50.
