Revenge on my Scum Ex
I sit at the upscale bar in a tight black dress that hugs my curves like a second skin, the deep V-neckline putting my heavy tits on full display and the hem riding high on my thighs. Four years with that cheating asshole, and now I’m done playing nice. Tonight I start my revenge on his entire family, beginning with the man who probably taught him how to be such a disappointment — his father.
Alexander Marshall. Late forties, silver hair that looks expensive, CEO of Marshall Enterprises. Tall, broad, powerful. He’s sitting alone at the end of the bar, nursing a whiskey, exuding that quiet, commanding presence that makes my pussy throb with wicked anticipation. I can already imagine the look on my ex’s face when he gets the video I’m about to make.
I down my drink, smile to myself, and slide off the stool. Time to hunt.
I walk over with purpose, hips swaying, and slip onto the stool beside him. “You look like a man who’s had a long day conquering the world,” I say, voice low and smooth.
“Mind if I keep you company while you unwind?”
He turns his head, silver hair catching the low light, and those sharp gray eyes rake over me slowly, appreciative, but not crude. A small, intrigued smile tugs at his lips. “Bold approach. Most women your age send a drink first.”
I laugh softly, leaning in so my tits brush his arm. “I’m not most women. And you don’t look like the type who needs games. You look like the type who takes what he wants.” I let my fingers trail lightly along the bar near his hand. “Am I wrong, Mr. Marshall?”
He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You know who I am. That’s dangerous information to throw around so casually.” His voice is deep, smooth, with that natural authority that makes my thighs press together. “And you are…?”
“Someone who’s very interested in powerful men who know exactly how to handle a woman,” I reply, holding his gaze. “Especially ones who look like they could ruin me and make me thank them for it.”
He chuckles, low and rich, the sound sending heat straight to my core. “You’re trouble, aren’t you? Young, beautiful, and far too direct. Most girls your age flutter their lashes and pretend to be innocent.”
I lean closer, letting him smell my perfume. “I stopped pretending a long time ago. I know what I want tonight.” My hand brushes his thigh under the bar, bold and teasing. “A man who can fuck me so good I forget my own name. Think you’re up for that, Mr. Marshall? Or should I find someone else who isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty?”
His eyes darken with clear interest and growing lust. He catches my wrist gently but firmly, thumb stroking my pulse point. “Careful, sweetheart. Keep talking like that and I might take you up on it. I don’t do gentle. And I don’t do quick.”
“Good,” I whisper, biting my lip. “I want it rough. I want to feel you for days.”
The flirting stretches deliciously as we finish our drinks. He’s charming, amused, clearly intrigued by how forward I am. “You’re playing a dangerous game, little one,” he murmurs, his hand now resting possessively on my thigh. “Coming after a man like me… what would your boyfriend think?”
I smile wickedly. “Ex-boyfriend. And I hope he finds out exactly what I think of him.”
He laughs, deep and genuine, before paying the tab and leading me to the elevator with a firm hand on my lower back.
The second the hotel room door closes, the civilized mask drops.
He pushes me against the wall, mouth crashing down on mine in a hungry kiss while his hands maul my tits, squeezing them roughly through the dress. “Fuck, these tits have been teasing me since you sat down,” he growls, yanking the dress down so they spill free. He sucks one hard nipple into his mouth, biting just enough to make me moan loudly. “Perfect fucking tits. Made to be sucked and marked.”
I arch into him, hands fumbling with his shirt. “Please… I need you inside me. Ruin me, Mr. Marshall.”
He spins me around, bends me over the bed, and shoves my dress up. My panties are ripped down in one motion. “Look at this soaked little cunt,” he groans, dragging his thick cock through my folds. “Already dripping. What a filthy little revenge slut you are.”
I moan shamelessly as he slams into me in one brutal thrust, stretching my pussy wide. The burn is delicious after so long. “Oh fuck— yes!” He’s huge, pounding me deep and hard from behind, one hand fisting my hair while the other slaps my ass. “Such a tight, greedy pussy. Taking daddy’s cock so well. Your ex must be a pathetic boy if he couldn’t keep a whore like you satisfied.”
The degradation makes me clench around him. I push back, meeting every powerful thrust. He fucks me relentlessly, changing angles until he finds the spot that makes me scream. My first orgasm crashes over me fast — pussy clenching violently around his thick shaft as I gush all over him.
He doesn’t stop. He pulls out, flips me onto my back, and throws my legs over his shoulders, folding me in half. “Look at me while I ruin you,” he growls, slamming back in. My heavy tits bounce wildly with every punishing thrust. He leans down and sucks hard on them, leaving marks while pounding me senseless. “These tits are fucking perfect. Made for a real man to worship and destroy.”
I cum again, screaming, nails digging into his back. He keeps going — flipping me into cowgirl so I ride him, hands guiding my hips as he thrusts up brutally. “Ride daddy’s cock like the filthy slut you are. That’s it, baby. Squeeze me with that greedy cunt.”
I cum a third time, soaking his cock. He flips me onto all fours again, pounding me mercilessly while I record every second on my phone. “Tell the camera who’s fucking you better than your ex ever could,” he demands, slapping my ass hard.
“Your son’s father,” I moan loudly, voice breaking with pleasure. “He could never fuck me like this— oh fuck, I’m cumming again!”
He buries himself deep and roars, flooding my pussy with thick, hot ropes of cum until it leaks out around his cock and drips down my thighs. He keeps thrusting through it, pushing every drop deep inside me.
I collapse on the bed, trembling and ruined, pussy throbbing and overflowing. With a satisfied, wicked smile, I stop the recording, edit the best parts, and send it to my ex with the caption: “Your daddy fucks better than you ever did. Enjoy.”
