#dr gonzo

The whole affair of will, inheritance,and shares ended a week ago, and if not because of Dr. Gonzo, you wouldn't be here.

In a villa in Hawaii, somewhere you forgot the name of, with Dr. Gonzo writhing under you, one hand gripping your bare hip, the other holding up a blunt. His cock nestled deep inside you, raw and hard, as you continue to grind lazily on him.

Because of Dr. Gonzo, you earned half of the money your father owned, two villas, this one and the other in Italy. And you've paid him, more than you should, but still, maybe it's the adrenaline of winning so much more assets than your siblings, or maybe the fact that you're so down bad for this man who knew the law and it's loopholes like the back of his hand.

Or maybe it's because he secured half the money and two villas for you. Because it's a beautiful villa, you remembered coming here during holidays, but now it's just you and Dr. Gonzo in the living room. The ceiling is high and so are you, the sun is shining through the wide windows, casting it directly onto your form.

“Look at you," he murmured calmly, just as high as you are. One hand reaching up to pinch your nipple, "keep going," he groaned, throwing his head back. Suddenly he throws the blunt away and put both hands on your hips, pushing you up to make some room for himself, then he began to thrust upward.

“There, right there, that’s it!” he snapped, that manic look returned to his face, the sweat began to show in his forehead and chest, you wish you did a reverse cowgirl, but this is good enough. So you tilt your head back, letting him do all the move, his balls slapping your ass, feeling the thickness of his cock, the veins, gasping when your clit touched his pelvis.

“You can do more with this," he said sharply, his movement became faster than before, “You should do more with this." You hate it when he becomes so manic, when he spiral, and you know it should end here, you know that better than anyone.

"Come, come on it! Now!" He barked, his hips jolting up again and again, you whimpered desperately as he pulled you down to sit on his cock completely, his big and sweaty balls nestled between your ass cheeks, it was the best orgasm you've had a in a while, and the thought of actually letting him go, turning back into strangers, just scares you.

He kept grinding upward, his grown pubic hair giving your folds a rug burn, but it was the best thing you've felt in a while. “God, that was beautiful," he sighed, smiling at you, it was a rare sight to see, but you've got tired of him by now. "You need to go, after this, just... Take your time," you murmured softly to him, still catching your breath.

His eyebrows scrunched, his eyes widened, oh God, “why are you pushing me out?” He asked, clearly offended, he shakes his head, refusing to believe what you've said. “No, you don’t want that yet, this is the best part.”

Suddenly he lift you up from his cock, and pushing you down to lay on the couch, you knew you shouldn't have invited him to this villa. “This is mine too, don’t you get that?” He asked, he licked his lips and looks at you in the eye intensely, before suddenly diving forward for your folds.

You gasped as he suckle on your clit, then using his broad tongue to lick you whole. Then he make out with your folds, it was amazing, and it happened as fast as it ends, he pulled away to look at you and point his finger to your face, “I helped you win this... So im staying, you’ll thank me later.”

And again, how did you get here?

It has been seven days since your father died, and by this time the mansion is full of the lawyers your siblings hired, aunts and uncles demanding their debt to be paid, cousins asking about the timelines and procedures, when will the whole inheritance thing is shared.

But today is the eighth day, you've had enough of it, and that's how you find yourself in a bar with your friend, talking about anything and nothing. Until you mentioned about the will and the inheritance, and the chaos your father death has bring, you look at your friend as they snapped their finger in front of your face, "Dr. Gonzo," they said excitedly.

The rest was just your friend explaining about the said Dr. Gonzo, like how he knew about law and it's loopholes like the back of his own hand, rather than pretending loopholes doesn't exist like most lawyers. They scribble some numbers on a napkin, add some doodles, but they didn't mention anything about the intensity of Dr. Gonzo.

Which it is something you discovered the day you meet him, you've called him in the morning and invite him to the mansion at 3.00. Yet the maid had found him at 2.30 smoking in the back garden, this is your first impression of him, and clearly he does not care about that.

He is a tall and huge man with a messy, curly, mop of hair and a mustache, his skin slick with faint sweat, his taste in fashion is questionable. "So you're the one," he said, his voice low and gravelly, stepping closer just enough to make you feel uncomfortable. "Nice place, shame about the timing... Go on, explain," he said, this time you can smell his breath, clearly he didn't have a chance to brush his teeth before meeting you.

So you began to explain, a week ago father died, bla bla bla, lawyers, will, inheritance, money, assets, land, whatever it was you remembered. "You waited a week before deciding to do something, why?" He asked eventually, curiously, staring at you intensely.

"Because you thought it would settle down," he said, exhaling, maybe this time you should step back from him, but you can't, something in his gaze holds you back. "Give it some time, but it doesn't, it gets worse, doesn't it? They've got better lawyers, much expensive too, probably," he shrugged, then continues, "that's okay, expensive doesn't mean effective... You're not effective."

"And that's a problem, because this is a mess, and you don't actually care about the money," he murmured softly this time, a brief pause, you could see the sweat gliding down from his temple to his soft chin, "no, that's not right... You care about the money, you just don't have the balls to admit it."