Disclaimer: This a work of fiction. This is not real. It did not/will not ever happen in real life and should not be mistaken as such.
Chapter Forty: Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince
Starring Taylor Swift
Codes: MF, Maledom, Roleplay, Oral, Spank
*****
2021
A knock sounded on the door and Cole rose slowly from where he had been sitting. Walking across the upscale hotel suite, he pulled on the heavy door to reveal her standing there, in all her gorgeous glory. Wearing an oversized faux leopard skin coat, she had one hip cocked to the side and an even cockier look etched upon her face. Her booty shorts were so short; they were virtually nonexistent beneath the hem of the jacket. Jet-black heels several inches tall meant she met his eye level perfectly. Messy blonde hair fell down around her shoulders and down her back. Piercing blue eyes stared out above cherry red lips. There was no glittering engagement ring adorning her finger. Looking him up and down, and liking what she saw, she blew a huge bubble of chewing gum before popping it loudly.
"Come on in Miss..." He said, waiting for her to introduce herself.
"Americana. You can call me Ms. Americana." Taylor Swift said with just a hint of a New York accent and extending one dainty hand for him to shake. Instead, he scooped it up and let his lips graze her knuckles in a gentle kiss. "Ohhhh, James. You're such a gentleman."
Stepping aside, he allowed her entry into his hotel room. Before closing the door, he snuck the
Do Not Disturb
sign onto the handle. Turning around, he saw her admiring the room, looking with particular interest at the fully stocked bar, immensely soft and plush looking bed and the tastefully modern furniture that otherwise decorated the space.
"Nice digs. You have good taste." She said as she placed her black purse down on a table and began undoing the buttons on her coat.
It turns out she was indeed wearing something underneath, although admittedly not much. He suppressed a grin. Taylor had picked the room. And the hotel. And the city. And the date. And pretty much everything else about this little rendezvous. Still, he was just glad to be out somewhere, out of the house. This was sort of their way of celebrating that fact. That, and taking a break from wedding planning, which was turning out be just as much work as re-recording six albums.
"Thank you. I'm glad you like it." Cole said before returning to the armchair he had vacated. "I assure you; the bed is as comfortable as it looks."
"I'm sure I'll find out soon enough." She replied, without missing a beat.
Interlacing his fingers, he watched her with an eager eye as she turned her attention away from the bar and back onto him. Sauntering towards him with hips swaying hypnotically, she stopped just in front of him. Bending over at the waist in a pleasing display of flexibility, she placed a hand on either arm of the chair. Those blue eyes were alight with fire and he could see straight down her blouse, her breasts hanging freely. He gulped. Audibly.
"Is there a place I can freshen up?" She asked, over-pronouncing each syllable with exaggerated lip movements.
"In the bathroom. Just through there." He said, nodding his head. "While you're in there, you'll find a dress hanging on the back of the door. Put it on. I'll be waiting right here."
"Don't worry. I won't keep you waiting too long." She said playfully, leaning forward as if to kiss him with those burning red lips, but withdrawing at the last possible moment and straightening up.
Sashaying away, she vanished into the bathroom, lingering just long enough for one last alluring look. Settling back in the chair, he was content to wait. For the moment, at least. It would be worth it for a night that would undoubtedly be quite unforgettable. Or maybe this was just an indicator of what married life would look like for them. Who could say for sure?
Turning on a speaker, soft music began playing. A wordless, yet sensual, tune. Foot tapping as his mind constructed an image of what Taylor would emerge looking like; he perked up when he heard the doorknob to the bathroom finally click open. Stepping out into the open, his emerald peepers were irresistibly drawn towards her visage like a magnet. His imagination could not compete with reality.
It was a jet-black evening gown. Silky smooth, with a plunging neckline it hugged her figure like a second skin. Leg slits went up nearly to her hip, but the sheer black stockings that accompanied the ensemble only managed to make their way about halfway up her deliciously smooth looking alabaster thighs. A new pair of equally black high heels completed the look. He also knew what she had on underneath it. That was the one thing he had picked it out.
"How do I look?" She asked, lifting her dress just a tad to reveal more leg, if that was even possible.
"Perfect." He growled. "Now, come here."
"If you'll allow me just one more moment." There was a pause. "Please?"
Giving his consent with a silent nod, she quickly flitted over to the bar and in a flash, fixed him a drink, swaying slowly with the rhythm of the music. Clutching the amber filled highball glass in her hand, she floated over towards him like something out a daydream. Their fingers touched as she handed him the glass, sending sparks of electricity flying between them. Withdrawing red-painted digits almost immediately, she smiled shyly. Bringing the glass to his mouth, he took a long sip, savoring the warmth that washed down his throat as he swallowed. It blossomed to life within in his chest, spreading its warm tendrils throughout his body. An old fashion. A favorite of both of theirs.
"How is it?" She asked, as if she didn't already know.
"Just perfect." He replied with a look at her that had absolutely nothing to do with the expertly crafted cocktail.
That shy smile turning to a sly one, Taylor wordlessly knelt down in front of him. Hands starting on his shins, they slowly spider walked along his legs until her fingertips were pressed into his inner thighs. Cole didn't say anything, just took another sip and threw his tie over his shoulder with approving eyes.
"So, what should I call you tonight?" She asked, as her fingertips inched ever closer to the sizable lump growing in his slacks. "Mister? Sir? Daddy?" Each word was lower and huskier than the last.
"Just James is fine." Cole blurted out as her fingers curled around the strained fabric of his suit pants.
"James it is, then." She whispered sensually, gently squeezing the tensely coiled trouser snake.
After fingering every inch with slow precision motions, her fingers found themselves at his belt buckle. Undoing it with almost agonizing slowness, Cole took another sip to try to wet his suddenly bone-dry mouth. With deliberate and exaggerated movements, the clink of the belt was the only sound apart from his labored breathing as she unbuttoned the slacks and with a slow *ZIPPPP* pulled down the zipper. He had not been wearing underwear. James liked to go commando. It sprang free with some assistance, rising high into the air, a big pulsating pillar of veiny flesh, trembling and twitching against her palm as her fingers squeezed around it.
She didn't say a word, but her eyes were screaming with lust. Big and round as saucers, deep like the ocean blue. Those burning red lips brushed the side of the throbbing shaft with the lightest touch that sent tremors running through his entire body. He nearly spilt his drink when she sank into the kiss. A long, lingering smooch, followed by another and another. One by one, she planted kisses across the broad expanse of cock, making her way down one side then up the other. Each and every time, she left an imprint of red behind. At the tip, she paused, noting the bead of precum gathered there, glimmering like a jewel. Her pink tongue darted out faster than the eye could see, licking it up before it disappeared back behind those smeared crimson beauties. The corners of her mouth turned upwards before parting. In one swift motion, she engulfed the entirety of his mushroom head before closing tight with a suction so great that her cheeks caved inward in spectacular and exaggerated fashion. Throwing his head back and squirming, the hand that wasn't gripping the glass was white knuckling the arm of the chair.
"Fuck. Oh my God. That's it." He hissed. "Suck that cock. Yesssss."
Inside her heavenly mouth, her tongue was a nonstop merry-go-round, swirling round and round. Never breaking the vacuum tight seal, her lips crept lower and lower down the shaft, making each inch disappear just as easily as the last. She never broke eye contact, watching unblinkingly as his face contorted and twisted with pleasure. Without the slightest flinch, he felt the head of his cock bump against the back of her throat before sliding on through without a hitch. It slipped into that hot tight buttery tunnel and filled her esophagus until she had no further to go. Cupid-bow lips wrapped securely around the base of his cock; his freshly shaven balls made the perfect wrinkly nest for her rounded chin. Manly musk filled her nostrils as her nose smushed against his groin. There she held him. Without coughing. Without gagging. With seemingly no effort at all. The only indication of him being ballsdeep in Taylor Swift's throat was the slight reddening of her cheeks that gradually crept to cover all of her face. Redder and redder she grew, willingly depriving herself of oxygen to offer him up the most desirable deepthroating she could deliver. She had his legs trembling and toes curled up so tightly it was almost painful. Only when her face was brick red did she finally have to come up for air and began the long retreat in exactly the same fashion as she had arrived. Upon reaching the top, she *POPPED* off and admired her handiwork. A glistening sheen of saliva, smeared red with lipstick. Almost as red as her face. Almost. It stood tall, still twitching and reeling from the sensation.
"Is that what you meant by "suck it"?" She asked with all the innocence in the world.
