He didn't hesitate. He knocked on the door—three sharp, authoritative raps.
A moment later, the lock clicked.
The door swung open, and Donovan felt a jolt of instant gratification mixed with that familiar, nagging comparison.
Nicole Aniston stood in the doorway. She was ready. She wasn't wearing a hoodie or sweatpants.
She was wearing a sheer black lace teddy that left absolutely nothing to the imagination, paired with silk stockings and towering stilettos.
Her hair was blown out to perfection, voluminous curls bouncing on her shoulders. Her makeup was flawless—smoky eyes, heavy contour, lips lined and glossed to a high shine.
"Hey," she purred, leaning against the doorframe, posing as if a camera were already rolling.
Donovan looked her up and down.
Visually, she was spectacular.
She looked like every teenage boy's search history come to life. She was the industry standard for "hot."
But she didn't come too close. She waited for him to enter.
And in that split second, Donovan couldn't help but think of Margot. When he had opened the door for Margot, she had practically tackled him.
There was a messiness to Margot, a raw, unpolished heat that felt dangerous. Nicole felt... produced.
Margot was a film shot on 35mm stock—grainy, real, vibrant.
Nicole was 4K digital video—ultra-clear, perfect, but maybe a little cold.
But he had wanted easy, hadn't he?
He wanted a sure thing.
He wanted someone who knew the role and played it without needing a script.
"Hey," Donovan replied, stepping inside and closing the door with his foot.
"You look... celebrated," Nicole said, eyeing the champagne stains on his championship t-shirt.
"It's been a long day," Donovan said, dropping his bag on the floor. "You get in okay?"
"First class was lovely," she said, walking toward the bed and sitting on the edge, crossing her legs deliberately. "The champagne was excellent. Though I missed the parade."
"You didn't miss much," Donovan said, walking over to the minibar and cracking open a water. "Just a lot of noise."
"I like noise," she said, her voice dropping.
They talked for a bit, but it was surface-level. She asked about the ring; he gave generic answers. He asked about Miami; she complained about the humidity. It was the necessary preamble, the terms and conditions before the main event.
"So," Donovan said, setting the water down. "We doing this?"
"I didn't fly across the country to talk about the weather," Nicole smiled, a practiced, sultry expression.
"Ground rules," Donovan said, his voice flat. "Phones off. No pictures. What happens in this room stays in this room."
"I know the game, Donovan," she assured him, standing up and walking toward him. "I'm a professional."
"Good," Donovan said.
She nodded, crossing her legs to flash a glimpse of inner thigh. 'Crystal. I'm all about discretion; it's how I play. No possessiveness, no morning cuddles unless you beg. Safe word: red light. Condoms always, on you. And if the chemistry clicks, why not round two in a few weeks? No pressure.' Her eyes sparkled with negotiation savvy, keeping it light, transactional—like a deal closing.
He smirked, draining his glass. 'Keep it at one for now. Simple works.'
The boundaries locked in, clean and sharp, stripping away any pretense.
Her hand grazed his knee, climbing slowly. 'Simple's my specialty. Now, let's see what the MVP's packing.'
Donovan set the flute aside, reclining against the pillows as he popped the button on his jeans, zipper rasping down. His cock, thick and half-hard from the buildup, tented his boxers, the outline prominent.
Nicole slid to her knees on the plush carpet, her lace-clad tits pressing against his shins as she hooked fingers into his waistband, yanking pants and underwear down in one smooth motion.
His shaft bobbed free, heavy and veined, the circumcised head already glistening with a pearl of pre-cum, curving upward toward his navel at inches of girthy promise.
'Mmm, look at you,' Nicole murmured, appreciation lacing her tone as she wrapped her soft palm around the base, giving a slow squeeze that made him throb.
Leaning in, she extended her tongue, flat and wet, dragging it from his heavy balls upward along the underside, tracing the prominent vein with deliberate pressure.
The heat of her mouth sent a jolt straight to his core, his hips twitching as she reached the tip, circling the ridge with lazy swirls, lapping up the salty bead oozing from the slit.
Her lips parted, enveloping just the crown in a warm suck, tongue flicking rapidly beneath as she hummed, the vibration buzzing through him.
She took her time, building it slutty and showy—eyes lifting to lock on his, dark and challenging, as she sank lower, inch by inch, her cheeks hollowing to create suction that pulled at his length.
Saliva gathered quickly, her mouth watering around him, dribbling down the shaft to coat her fingers as she stroked the root in twisting pumps.
No rookie hesitance; this was pro-level, her head bobbing with fluid rhythm, taking him to the back of her throat where she relaxed, swallowing to massage the head with rippling muscles.
A soft gag escaped when he hit her limit, but she powered through, nose brushing his trimmed pubes, tears pricking her lashes in mascara-streaked proof of her commitment.
Donovan's hand found her hair, fingers weaving into the dark strands not to force but to anchor, watching her work with hooded eyes.
She pulled back with a wet pop, strings of spit bridging her swollen lips to his slick cock, only to spit directly on the head—glob of saliva landing hot—before rubbing it in with her palm, the friction slick and obscene.
Diving back, she amped the pace, slurping loudly, her free hand cupping his sac, rolling the full orbs between fingers, tugging gently to heighten the ache building in his gut.
'Fuck, your cock's perfect,' she gasped on an upstroke, voice husky, before engulfing him again, twisting her head side to side to drag her inner cheeks along his girth.
Her experience shone in the variations: slow, teasing licks along the frenulum that had him groaning, hips canting up; then rapid deepthroats, gagging wetly but never faltering, her throat convulsing in eager swallows.
She popped off to lavish his balls, sucking one into her hot mouth, tongue swirling as she pumped his shaft firmly, pre-cum smearing her knuckles. Switching sides, she nipped lightly at the sensitive skin, the edge of pain spiking his pleasure.
Back to the main course, she hollowed deeper, one hand pressing his perineum to amp the prostate thrum, the dual assault making his abs clench.
Slutty as hell, she moaned around him like he was dessert, eyes watering but fixed on his face, reading every twitch.
She edged him ruthlessly—sensing the coil tightening, she'd slow to feather-light kisses up the veined length, tongue tracing every ridge, then surge forward to deepthroat with renewed vigor, her tits bouncing in the lace with each bob.
Drool cascaded now, soaking his thighs, the carpet, her chin shiny as she worked him over. 'Gonna make you explode,' she promised breathlessly, before taking him balls-deep again, humming a low tune that vibrated straight to his tip.
Donovan's breaths ragged, thighs quivering under her assault as she alternated: hand and mouth in tandem, twisting opposite directions for maximum friction; then pure suction, lips sealed tight as he looked at the top of her blonde head, and for a second, he overlaid the image of Margot.
Margot had been sloppy, enthusiastic, laughing when she choked, making it a competition.
With Margot, it felt like she wanted him. With Nicole, it felt like she was performing for him.
The build was relentless—his cock pulsing, veins standing out as she milked him with expert swallows. 'Shit—Nicole—' he warned, but she doubled down, sucking harder, hand flying on the base.
He came with a guttural roar, cock erupting in thick spurts down her throat, her swallows pulling every drop as she held him deep, not spilling a bit. Pulling off slowly, she licked him clean, a satisfied smirk on her cum-glossed lips.
Nicole licked her lips, wiping a stray dribble from her chin. 'A warning next time.'
Donovan chuckled, chest still heaving. 'Next time?'
'Thought this could be ongoing. You're too good to be one-and-done.' Her eyes held a hopeful glint.
'Maybe if you earn it.' But he knew: this was it. No repeats, no ties.
Donovan fished a condom from wallet with a dexterity that surprised even him, she tore it open with her teeth. "Let me handle it."
She took the latex between her teeth, the rubber dangling provocatively, then bent low, her breath ghosting his skin.
Lips parted around his tip, she unrolled it down his length using only her mouth—tongue pressing the material taut, inch by inch, until it hugged his base snugly, her nose nuzzling his pubes on the final push.
Donovan stared. Okay, he admitted to himself. Margot didn't do that.
Donovan sucked in a breath, the teasing warmth pushing him fully erect. "Damn, girl."
Nicole stripped efficiently, unhooking her bra to let heavy breasts spill free, nipples dark and begging for attention, then shimmying the thong down thick thighs, revealing a neatly trimmed landing strip above plump, slick labia.
She crawled onto the bed on hands and knees, ass up high, back dipped to present her pussy—lips parted slightly, glistening with arousal, the pink inner folds visible and inviting. 'Take me like this, Donovan. Pound it out.'
He knelt behind her, hands spanning her hips, thumbs spreading her cheeks to expose her fully. He didn't handle her with the careful curiosity he had with Margot. He grabbed her hips firmly, his fingers digging into her skin.
His cockhead nudged her entrance, slick with her juices, and he thrust forward—slow at first, the tight heat enveloping him inch by girthy inch, her walls stretching around his thickness with a wet squelch.
Nicole moaned low, pushing back to hasten him, until he bottomed out, balls resting against her clit, the fullness making her quiver.
'Tight—fuck,' Donovan growled, holding still a beat to savor the clench, then pulling back to the tip, watching her pussy lips grip the latex before slamming home. The slap of his hips against her ass rang sharp, her flesh rippling with the impact.
He set a steady rhythm, each drive deep and claiming, his hands bruising her hips as he pulled her onto him, the angle letting him grind against her depths.
Nicole rocked back eagerly, circling her hips to rub her clit on his base, inner muscles fluttering in response. 'Yes—deeper, make me feel every inch,' she demanded, voice breathy, her experience guiding her to angle for his cock to drag her g-spot.
Sweat bloomed on her skin, breasts swaying heavily beneath her, nipples grazing the sheets with each forward jolt.
Donovan leaned in, chest to her back, one arm snaking around to palm a tit, pinching the nipple hard enough to draw a gasp, while his other hand held her steady for harder thrusts.
But even as he drove into her, Donovan's mind flickered to Margot.
That night at the Ritz-Carlton had been chaos—drunken, sloppy, her smaller frame bucking wildly under him in this very position, her ass cheeks not as plush but firmer, slapping back with a desperation that made his skin burn.
Margot's pussy had gripped him like a vice from the start, wetter somehow, more frantic, her moans raw and unfiltered as she begged for more without words, just animalistic pushes.
Nicole was good—practiced, responsive—but it lacked that edge, that unpredictable spark where Margot had clawed the sheets, her body trembling not just from pleasure but from the sheer exhaustion of chasing release after release.
Here, Nicole's movements were calculated, her circles precise, while Margot had ground back erratically, her hips stuttering in her drunken haze, making every thrust feel like a discovery.
He dragged her first orgasm with calculated control—slowing to shallow pumps that teased her entrance, then surging deep to rub relentlessly inside, his tip nudging her cervix.
Her breaths hitched, body tensing as he reached under, fingers finding her swollen clit, rubbing firm, insistent circles that matched his pace.
'Not yet—beg for it,' he commanded, varying strokes: long glides that filled her completely, then quick jabs that sparked friction on her walls.
Nicole whimpered, ass grinding back desperately, her pussy spasming in prelude. 'Please—Donovan—fuck, I'm close, let me cum on that dick.'
He accelerated, fingers flicking her nub faster, cock pistoning with wet slaps, balls smacking her clit rhythmically.
The climax tore through her—walls convulsing in powerful waves, milking his length as she cried out, a fresh gush of wetness coating him, her body shuddering forward onto her elbows.
Donovan rode it out, not pausing, prolonging the pulses with deep grinds until she sagged, panting, oversensitive flutters gripping him.
'One,' he murmured, pulling out just enough to reposition, angling her hips higher for deeper access, then plunging back in with a groan at the renewed tightness.
He felt like he was putting up numbers, filling the stat sheet, but the game felt like a blowout in the preseason where the score didn't matter.
Resuming, he went brutal—hips snapping like a piston, the bed creaking under the force, her ass cheeks reddening from the impacts.
Nicole recovered fast, shoving back to meet him, moans turning to guttural pleas. 'Don't hold back—wreck this pussy.'
She reached back, spreading herself wider, the lewd view of his cock stretching her spurring him on.
Donovan spanked her once—sharp crack leaving a pink bloom—then soothed with a rub, the contrast making her clench harder. He traced her puckered hole with a thumb, circling without entering, the tease heightening her sensitivity.
Sweat slicked their joining, her juices dripping down his sac as he varied depths: full hilts that stirred her core, then near-withdrawals teasing her lips before slamming home.
His hand roamed, tweaking her swinging tits, slapping the undersides to watch them bounce, all while his cock ravaged her, veins catching every ridge inside.
Margot flashed again—how she'd yelped at his spanks, not just clenching but arching higher, her back bowing in a way that pressed her ass firmer against him, inviting the sting like fuel.
With Margot, the slaps had echoed louder in the dim hotel room, her skin marking easier, red handprints blooming as she pushed for harder, her pussy flooding with each impact, the wetness audible in sloppy squelches that drowned out their breaths.
Nicole's reactions were solid, her clenches reliable, but Margot's had been visceral, her body reacting like it was starved, every spank pulling a fresh wave of slick that made his thrusts glide deeper, messier.
Here, Nicole's ass jiggled satisfyingly, but it didn't carry that same frantic energy; Margot had quivered, her muscles tensing and releasing in unpredictable bursts, making him feel like he was conquering something wild.
Building her second was a slow burn—he'd grind deep, rotating his hips to massage her g-spot, then pull back for rapid, shallow thrusts that battered her clit indirectly. Fingers returned to her nub, pinching and rolling, syncing with his drives.
Nicole's cries escalated, head thrashing, hair sticking to her sweat-damp neck. 'Right there—oh god, you're hitting it—gonna cum again.' Her body coiled tight, toes curling into the mattress.
Donovan felt his own edge nearing but focused on her, thrusting erratically to toy with the peak, then locking into a punishing rhythm—deep, hard, unrelenting.
Her second orgasm exploded, pussy clamping vice-like, a squirt jetting around his base as she screamed, convulsing wildly, nails shredding the sheets.
The vice grip, her ass quaking against him, nearly shattered his control, but he held back, savoring the way her walls rippled, pulling at the latex like they wanted to draw him in bare.
With Margot, that second peak had been different—tiredness creeping in, her movements slowing but no less intense, her pussy not just clenching but fluttering erratically as exhaustion made her body betray her control.
She'd collapsed forward halfway through, face buried in the pillow, muffling screams that turned to sobs of overstimulation, yet she'd still rocked back weakly, begging with whimpers for him not to stop.
The squirt had been messier then, soaking the sheets in a puddle that made the room smell of sex, her body limp but greedy.
Nicole's squirt was controlled, a jet that slicked his thighs but didn't flood; it was hot, but Margot's abandon had made it feel primal, like he was pushing her beyond limits she didn't know she had.
He slowed his pace post-climax, letting her catch her breath, his cock still buried deep, twitching inside her fluttering channel. Nicole panted, glancing back over her shoulder, eyes glazed with satisfaction. 'Keep going—don't stop now.' She wiggled her hips, urging him on, her ass pressing back in invitation.
Donovan obliged, withdrawing almost fully before easing back in with a languid thrust, feeling every inch of her walls part for him anew.
He built the rhythm gradually this time, hands sliding up her sides to grip her waist, pulling her onto each stroke with measured pulls.
The latex barrier was a reminder of the transaction—this was safe, contained—unlike with Margot, where in their drunken stupor, they'd forgotten condoms midway, the raw slide of skin on skin amplifying every sensation, her heat direct and scorching.
Here, the rubber dulled it slightly, making Nicole's pussy feel warm but not searing, her responses enthusiastic but not consuming.
He picked up speed, hips rolling in a smoother cadence, the slap of flesh now a steady drumbeat. One hand ventured forward again, fingers dipping to where they joined, collecting her slickness before circling her clit in slow, firm loops.
Nicole arched, moaning deeply, her breasts dragging across the sheets with each forward push. 'Fuck, yes—touch me there,' she gasped, her voice husky from the strain.
Comparisons nagged at him: Margot's clit had been more sensitive, swelling under his fingers like it had a pulse of its own, her reactions explosive—jerks and shudders that made her whole body jolt, pussy contracting in mini-spasms even before full release.
With Nicole, the circles elicited steady moans, her hips bucking predictably, but it was polished, like a performance honed from experience.
Margot's had been raw, her clit throbbing erratically under his touch, sometimes too much, making her whine and try to pull away only to shove back harder, the conflict heightening the intensity.
Donovan leaned forward, his chest brushing her back, breath hot on her neck as he nipped at the skin there, teeth grazing the curve of her shoulder. He thrust deeper, angling to hit that spongy spot inside, feeling her walls yield and then grip.
Sweat dripped from his brow onto her spine, mixing with the sheen on her skin. 'You like that? Taking it all?' he murmured, voice rough, one hand tangling in her hair to tug her head back gently, exposing her throat for a suck that left a faint mark.
'Love it—harder, make it hurt a little,' Nicole replied, her tone challenging, pushing her ass higher to deepen the penetration.
He complied, yanking her hair firmer, thrusts turning sharper, the pull on her scalp syncing with the plunge of his cock.
Her pussy responded with fresh squeezes, the friction building heat that made the condom slick inside and out.
Margot's hair had been a messier handle—tousled from their earlier frenzy, strands sticking to her sweat-slick face, and when he'd pulled, she'd gasped sharply, eyes rolling back, her body going rigid before melting into the pain-pleasure mix.
The tug had elicited a guttural cry from her, not just a moan, her neck arching dramatically, pussy flooding in response, the wetness trickling down her thighs in rivulets.
With Margot, the hurt had blurred into ecstasy faster, her bites back at his arm leaving indents, the mutual marking making it feel like a battle they both won.
Nicole's enjoyment was vocal, but it stayed surface-level, her cries appreciative without that feral edge.
He released her hair, both hands returning to her hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he hammered forward, the pace relentless now, bedframe protesting with each impact.
Her ass rippled hypnotically, the jiggle sending vibrations up his shaft, her moans blending into a continuous stream.
Donovan reached under to cup her swinging breasts, thumbs flicking the nipples in time with his thrusts, pinching to elicit sharp inhales.
The dual assault—cock stretching her depths, fingers tormenting her peaks—had her trembling, walls beginning to flutter in warning of another build.
'Third one's coming—fuck, you're relentless,' she panted, head dropping forward, elbows buckling slightly as she braced.
Donovan grinned through gritted teeth, sweat stinging his eyes, and varied his assault: pulling out to the head and pausing, letting her whine at the emptiness, before slamming back in balls-deep, grinding his pubes against her clit.
The tease drew desperate rocks from her hips, her pussy clenching around nothing until he filled her again.
This teasing had driven Margot insane—her whines turning to pleas, body shaking with need, the pause making her push back frantically, trying to impale herself.
With Margot, the emptiness had been agony in their tired state, her pussy gaping slightly before he plunged in, the relief crashing over her in waves that made her sob, the contrast sharpening every nerve.
Nicole begged too, but it was breathy, seductive; Margot's had been broken, exhausted, her voice cracking from hours of use.
He didn't let up, repeating the withdraw-and-thrust cycle, each time lingering a second longer at the edge, watching her lips cling to his girth, stretched and shiny.
Finally, he stayed buried, rotating his hips in wide circles, stirring her insides, the motion pressing his shaft against every wall. Fingers slipped back to her clit, rubbing side to side now, faster, the pressure building as her breaths came in short bursts.
'Cum for me—squeeze that dick,' he ordered, voice low and commanding, hips snapping short, sharp jabs that targeted her core.
Nicole shattered, her third orgasm ripping through with a wail, pussy convulsing in tight, rhythmic pulses, juices squirting in arcs that soaked his thighs and the sheets below. Her body bucked, ass slamming back once, twice, before going slack, held up only by his grip.
Donovan groaned at the sensation, her walls massaging him toward his own brink, but he powered through, slowing to long, deep strokes that prolonged her aftershocks, each one pulling a whimper from her lips.
Margot's third had been quieter, exhaustion muting her cries to breathy gasps, but no less intense—her body had gone limp entirely, a ragdoll he maneuvered, her pussy still clenching weakly but insistently, drawing out his thrusts until he felt her pulse around him like a heartbeat.
Easing her down gently, he kept the rhythm steady, not giving her full recovery, his cock sliding through her oversensitive channel with ease now, the slickness obscene.
Nicole shivered, murmuring encouragements, her hands fisting the sheets. 'More—give me more,' she urged, voice slurred with pleasure.
He traced her spine with one hand, nails lightly scratching down to her ass, then delivering another spank—harder this time, the crack echoing, her cheek blooming redder. The sting made her yelp, pussy tightening in response, and he followed with soothing kneads, alternating the sensations to keep her on edge.
Thrusts deepened, his balls tightening as he chased his release, but he held off, wanting to wring one more from her first.
Margot had loved the scratches—her skin prickling with goosebumps, back arching into his touch, the light pain making her push back with renewed vigor despite the fatigue.
Spanks with her had escalated, her ass lifting for each one, the reds turning to bruises by morning, her responses a mix of pain-laced moans that fueled his dominance.
Nicole's yelps were sharp, pleasurable, but Margot's had carried a hint of surprise, like she was discovering her limits anew each time.
Shifting slightly, Donovan hooked one leg over hers, changing the angle to thrust upward, hitting a new spot that made her gasp sharply.
His free hand snaked around to her belly, pressing down to feel his cock bulge inside her, the pressure amplifying the fullness for both. 'Feel that? That's me owning this pussy,' he growled, pace quickening, the new leverage allowing deeper penetration, his tip kissing her cervix with each hilt.
Nicole moaned loader, the press making her walls feel even tighter, her body rocking forward with the force. 'Yes—own it, fuck—it's yours tonight.' Her words spurred him, hips blurring as he pounded, the bed shaking, headboard tapping the wall in rhythm.
With Margot, that press had elicited a different reaction—her hand flying to his, pressing harder, eyes wide with the intensity, her pussy spasming uncontrollably at the sensation of being so full, so claimed.
The ownership had felt mutual then, her body yielding but fighting back, clenches that bordered on painful in their strength, born from the night's cumulative exhaustion.
He built her fourth slowly, mixing everything: spanks interspersed with rubs, clit flicks varying pressure, thrusts alternating speed and depth. Her body was a live wire now, every touch eliciting twitches, moans constant.
Sweat poured off them, the room thick with the scent of sex, her arousal dripping steadily.
Donovan's abs burned from the effort, thighs straining, but the comparisons kept him going—Nicole was durable, taking it well, but Margot's endurance had been surprising, her tired body still responding with fervor, each orgasm weaker but more profound, like peeling layers.
'Can't—too much,' Nicole whined, but her hips betrayed her, grinding back. Donovan chuckled darkly, pinching her clit lightly before rubbing soothingly. 'You can—cum again for the MVP.' He slammed home repeatedly, the chain of deep thrusts pushing her over, her fourth climax a shuddering wave, less explosive but deeper, walls undulating in long pulls that finally tipped him.
Burying deep, Donovan roared, cock throbbing as he unloaded into the condom, hot jets filling it while her walls milked every pulse. He collapsed over her, breaths ragged, staying seated inside through the tremors.
The room fell silent, save for the hum of the air conditioning and their heavy breathing.
From this angle, in the dim light, the shade of gold was identical. It was easy to trick his brain, to squint just enough that the perfectly coiffed curls transformed into the chaotic, bedhead bob that Margot had sported.
But the illusion was shattered when Nicole rolled over, propping herself up on one elbow. Her makeup was still miraculously intact, not a smudge in sight.She ran a manicured nail down the center of his chest, tracing the line of his sternum.
Pulling out slowly, the heavy latex slick with her cream, he tied it off and discarded it. Nicole slumped forward, turning to face him with a sated smile. 'That was incredible. Round two? I can go again.'
Donovan looked at her, really looked at her. She was undeniably beautiful, the kind of woman men killed to be with. But as he calculated the effort it would take to go another round, the comparison to Margot hit him like a flagrant foul.
With Margot, one round had felt like a marathon, a battle that left him drained and euphoric. With Nicole, he felt like he had just finished a light shootaround. The spark wasn't there. Repeating the performance would just be running the same drill over and over again. Donovan swung his legs off the bed, standing up and reaching for his draws.
"Raincheck," he said, not looking back.