Million Dollar Mistress
Million Dollar Mistress
Steve Miller - no relation to the guy with the band, as he often said when introducing himself - was watching a movie on their ridiculously large widescreen HDTV. A recent wedding gift, this made it almost like being at the cinema itself (surround sound and everything), and he'd been waiting weeks for Netflix to deliver this particular DVD. Nevertheless he immediately picked up the remote and paused play when his wife bustled into the living room and hailed him.
They'd been married barely two months, and his love and appreciation for her remained all-consuming - as he fully expected it to forever. Beyond merely petite at only four foot-ten and less than ninety pounds, Amy was a lovely little dynamo of buzzing vitality, always eager for new experiences and always enjoying them with the same incomparable gusto. Outgoing and fun-loving himself, Steve was confident their completely compatible personalities would see them eventually grow old together with nary a dull moment in their always eventful and supremely satisfying lives - particularly with regard to sex.
Both just twenty-three, they'd been lovers in college for nearly a year before graduation and marriage. And Amy had proved just as inventive and experimental in bed as she was at exhaustively pursuing novelty and excitement in the rest of her life. Right away Steve felt his own always eager libido surge as she bounded up to him, recognizing the familiar flush to her lovely freckled face and the dare-me fire in her bright blue eyes. Nor was that the only cue.
Wearing only pale blue tights clinging to her slender legs and curvy hips and butt, and a threadbare T-shirt ripped off to expose her tiny waist and trim little belly the extraordinarily pointy nipples of Amy's saucy C-cup breasts were clearly visible through the thin fabric. Contracted and erect beyond their already remarkable natural conicity, they threatened to rip right through in her excitement. Vaulting over the couch like the lifelong gymnast that she was, this lithe little bundle of sexual electricity landed lightly on Steve's lap. She linked her arms around his neck and immediately locked lips with him in a devouring smooch that had his penis - delightfully crushed beneath her butt - straining toward erection in seconds. After a good long minute Amy broke away. She tossed her gorgeously thick mane of bushy orange curls and gleamed delightedly at him.
"How would you like a million dollars Stevie?"
"Who do I have to whack?" he laughed. She laughed right back.
"No one, silly. I'll be doing all the whacking!" Amy peeled off another string of delighted giggles, her eyes twinkling merrily with excitement. Then she started squirming that excellent ass firmly against Steve's trapped and raging hard-on. Leaning in even closer she ground her aroused breasts salaciously against his chest and began nibbling on and murmuring into his ear - something that never failed to send shivers of lust running through him.
"I was just surfing the web - mmmm, mmmm, mmmmmmm..." A pause to nip and nibble, slither and slather, as Amy drove her nimble little tongue in deep and then out again, around and around and in and out before continuing. "I was looking for... mmmm... sexy stories and stuff, when I came across this amazing contest being held. The prize is... mmmm... mmmm... MMMMMM... a million dollars and our own reality TV show!"
By this point Steve had his hand up the belling bottom of her flimsy excuse for a shirt. He was fondling one wonderfully firm breast while worrying the hard, amazingly large nipple with his thumb. Nevertheless his interest was piqued enough (barely) to keep him from swiveling Amy around to straddle and ride him right there.
"What kind of contest?"
"Come and see!"
Right away Amy leaped off his lap. She seized his hand and drew him onto his feet and after her, leading him quickly toward the computer in the