“So hot,” she said in a throaty exhale. “I can’t wait to have you inside me.” I didn’t know if she meant her mouth or her pussy. Either one was fine with me.

Her lips wrapped around me as she took me into her mouth, sucking me deep inside. A panting groan escaped me as she stroked me; she didn’t even have to use her hands. She played with my balls instead, and I had to grab the armrests of my chair. The throbbing, tingling, burning ache was so delicious—my entire body felt like I was being jolted with electric bolts of ecstasy. Over and over and over, to the rhythm of her mouth pulling me deeper and deeper.

Letting my head fall back, I reveled in the erotic delight. “Fuck, yes, Anna. Just like that…don’t stop.”

She moaned, and the vibrations along my skin nearly undid me. I started moving my hips, meeting her lips thrust for thrust. I didn’t know if she was going to let me finish, but I hoped so, and I repeated, “Don’t stop…” Let me come.

She moved against me harder, and I knew she wasn’t quitting. I could feel the buildup approaching, and I did nothing to stop the sensation. Fuck, I wanted this so bad. Almost like she could feel my rising desire, Anna squeezed my balls at the exact right moment to send me over the edge. “Oh fuck…yes…” I groaned as I came. Both her mouth and her hand turned soothing instead of urging, prolonging my orgasm. God, damn…

When she finally pulled away, leaving me spent, gasping and tingling with residual lapping waves of pleasure, her smile was devilish. “My turn, baby,” she stated, slipping off her skirt.

She started to pull down her underwear, but I reached up to stop her. “Nuh-uh. You requested that I rip your clothes off.” Grabbing the scant material at her hips, I pulled them down her lean legs. Seeing what I wanted made my cock start coming to life. I ripped her top off, followed by her bra, then, with a mighty shove, I knocked everything off my desk. After plopping her on top of it, I urged her to lie back, then I propped her legs over my shoulders, and dove in to taste just how much she wanted me.

She grabbed my head, holding me there while an erotic cry echoed around the room. “Oh God, Griffin…yes, yes, fuck yes, that feels so good!” My cock hardened with every moan coming from her, and I was ready for more by the time she was falling apart beneath me. I let her finish, because I was a firm believer in tit for tat, but the minute her orgasm spiked, I pulled my mouth away so I could thrust into her.

She gasped as I entered her. “Yes, I’m still…oh, fuck, yes…fuck me!”

Her orgasm lasted a fucking eternity, and when it finally ended, mine erupted again. I slumped over her, well and truly satisfied. She held my head to her chest, our bodies still connected. While our breaths returned to normal, I noticed the spilled beer near her head. Damn, and I could really use a drink right about now. I was thirsty as hell. Curious, I shouted out, “Alfred! I need another beer!”

His response was instant, and it came from right outside the open door. “Yes, sir.”

Anna laughed, then poked me in the ribs. Guessing what she wanted, I shouted, “Make that two, Alfred. The misses is parched too.”

“As you wish, sir,” was his calm reply.

I laughed as I resettled myself on Anna’s chest. I fucking loved having a butler. But having Alfred was nothing compared to making my wife happy. I just hoped I could keep her that way and prayed with everything inside me that I got a deal soon.

Once I had a song that was worthy of being a G. Hancock original, I needed to record a demo of it so I could start shopping myself around to record labels. Because I didn’t know where else to go, I visited my old recording studio, where the first D-Bags album was recorded. The fee to use the place for just an hour was fucking ridiculous, but I paid it and scheduled a time to come in. Money was no object when fame was on the line.

All the original guys were still working there when I showed up—what’s his name, and that guy. The dude mixing the sound was different though, since the studio had brought in some exclusive talent for our first album, but the guy on staff helped me figure out what to do, which I appreciated.

When it was my turn to go up, I recorded the song that Anna had turned her nose up at. I had to. It was awesome coated in awesome, and the best thing I’d come up with. I didn’t have any sort of beat though, so I just made my own noises—beatbox style. It totally worked with the song though. In fact, it was so cool, I decided I might use it on the final album.

Once I got some copies in my hands, I started mailing them to record labels. I didn’t even call to ask if they wanted them. I just found their address online and mailed them a copy. Then I sat back and waited for the offers to roll in.

Since I was feeling great about my options, I Express mailed Denny a copy to give him the first crack at representing me. With it, I sent a note that said, “I’m about to get a dozen offers for this shit, but if you want in on my millions, find me a deal that blows everything else out of the water. You do that, and I might pay you forty percent—because there is no way in hell I’m paying you fifty!”

He called me the minute he received my care package. “Um…Griffin…what in the world did you just send me?”

“Oh, hey, Denny. That’s my demo for my solo album. I’m sure it’s some sort of conflict of interest for you to represent me as well as the Douchebags, but I’m throwing you a bone. Who knows, you might want to drop them for me. Personally, I think I’ll do better. Or maybe you can keep representing them and I’ll take Abby.” I let out a low laugh, thinking of Denny’s wife waiting on me hand and foot. “Yeah…I like that idea.”