by Amara Kent
“Open those legs for me a little wider. Let me see that pretty little pussy.”
She does as she’s told, giving me a good view of the prize I’m about to devour. I stride over in a few steps, running my hands up her legs slowly. A slight shudder runs through her body at my touch. I love how responsive she is to me. Even when I’m not hitting any erogenous zones, she’s yearning for me. My fingers travel up her thighs and land on her round ass, giving a hard slap. She jerks with a squeal. I rub my hand over the red spot now forming. I give a hard slap to her other ass cheek. She’s anticipated it this time, and only a moan can be heard. She enjoys the pain; the sexual need that comes from it. She loves to be dominated and I love more than anything to dominate her.
Looking back at me, she says, “You can do better than that, can’t you?”
I smirk at her. A test I see. I’ve had sex with a lot of women, and none of them have been as mind blowing as this experience with Tiffany. My left hand deftly moves to the spot between her legs where I find her soft and wet making me even harder at the thought that I’m the one that did that to her. I remove her dress, discarding it on the floor. I return my hand in between her legs and feel the smooth skin of her pussy. I run a finger through her slit and then stick it in my mouth. She tastes sweet like honey. I take the same finger and slowly tease the entrance to her pussy, gently guiding my finger in a little and then out. A loud moan is released.
“Dean, please. Just fuck me already,” she whimpers.
“Not just yet, baby. Not just yet.”
I push my finger the rest of the way in slowly, causing as much sexual torture as I can inflict on her. She cries out as I work her with precision. A second finger joins the first and I pick up my speed. Pants join mewls of lust as I curl my fingers and hit the spot that’ll drive her crazy and falling over the edge. Leaning over, I pull her ear in between my teeth and whisper in her ear, “Are you ready, baby?”
“Ready for—” I bring my hand down hard on her right ass cheek and she cries out.
I give her three quick slaps to the cheek before I rub the sore spot to smooth out the pain.
“Fuck me, Dean. Do it again.”
“Does my dirty little girl like to be slapped.”
“Yes,” she breathes out. “Do it again,” she begs.
“What do you say?” I growl out.
“Sir. Do it again, sir.”
I punish her other ass cheek. Over and over again. I don’t stop.
“Fuck me! Oh fuckin’… God Dean, keep doing that. I’m gonna cum!” she cries out.
Her pussy clenches my fingers as she reaches her orgasm. The erotic sounds coming from her mouth bring on a painful sensation to my cock that yearns to be inside of her.
I withdraw my fingers from her pussy. “Get up,” I demand. I take her spot on the bed and direct her into a sixty-nine position. Her beautifully pink pussy hovers over me. I grab her hips and bring it to my mouth, running my tongue down through her slit.
I stop when I hit her clit, blowing on it and then nipping it lightly with my teeth. A deep moan erupts through me when her mouth covers my cock. The heat from her mouth caressing me. She’s moves all the way down, my dick hitting the back of her throat. She doesn’t gag like most women would and I love that about her. No gag reflex means that I can fuck her mouth hard and fast without worrying she’ll choke on me. She gives a blow job better than a pro. With one hand on my shaft, she sucks hard on my head, driving me insane. I buck up into her and a muffled chuckle comes from her.
“Do you like that, baby?” she asks me.
I mumble out some nonsensical words and she chuckles at my response.
I take this brief moment of reprieve to return to pleasing her. My mouth latches onto her once more and I suck and lick at her clit. She stops sucking my cock and I feel her weight lift off of me as she’s now on her knees.
“Oh yes. Yes. Right there. Oh, shit!” she cries out.
I move at a fervent pace until she explodes on top of me. Her sweet juices my reward once more. Her body twitches on top of me a few times and then relaxes.
“Holy shit,” she breathes out.
I move over to my bedside drawer and retrieve a condom. Ripping open the packet with my teeth and moving back in front of her. I watch her insatiable eyes follow my hand as I roll it onto my dick.
Without having to say a word, she moves down, aligns herself with the head of my dick and inch by inch, inserts me into her. My body goes limp, and I allow her to take control of the situation. She seems to know just how I like to be fucked, without me having to tell her. I don’t have to instruct her how to fuck me or please me. She just knows.
She rises up slowly and then slams herself down onto me. She does that a few times before leaning back, resting her hands on my stomach and grinding against me. I force myself to not take control. It’s instinctual, and it’s hard to fight it, but I know the end result. An orgasm so intense, I’ll explode like a dead star.
“Do you like that, baby?” she asks me through pants.
“Mm-hmm,” is the only thing I can manage to get out. My hands fisting the blanket underneath, I’m driven by the magic of her.
She releases me from her and turns around to face me. The glow on her face from the multiple orgasms I gave her brightening her skin. Sinking down, I’m once again sheathed inside her beautiful pussy.
I grab her by the hair and pull her down, taking her mouth as well as she’s taking my dick. She tastes like everything worth fighting for in this world and more. Her tongue moves gracefully against mine.
She tenses around me once more, and I know I won’t be able to survive this one. She stops kissing me and pants against my mouth. Her hot breath tickling my skin. She squeezes me tightly, and I let go. Her orgasm crashes down on her and she screams out my name. Grabbing her ass, I aid her movements, keeping her rhythm intact as I feel my balls tightening, before I too am free falling over the edge and into oblivion. A few minutes later and we are sweaty and panting. Satiated to the highest degree, with the smell of sex lingering in the air.
“Tiffany, can you please come into my office?” Dean’s sweet baritone floats through the intercom on my phone.
I stand up, fixing my skirt that’s a little shorter than I normally would wear to work and gather my notepad and pen and sashay into his office. I feel like I’m walking on cloud nine. Saturday night was amazing, and it continued well into Sunday. There’s a skip in my step as I make my way into his office. He lifts his head up and watches me with a predator’s gaze. I smile sweetly at him as I sit down, crossing my legs, not bothering to fix my skirt which has ridden up my legs.
“Yes, Mr. Lukas?” I ask when he still hasn’t said anything.
“Do you think that attire is appropriate for the office?” he asks, with a slight smirk.
“Why? Has someone said something?” I play dumb.
“I’m saying something.”
“That you are. Maybe instead of concerning yourself with my outfit, which would only become an issue if you aren’t able to contain yourself, you should do your job?” I retort in a seductive manner.
His eyes shine with a darkness I haven’t seen before and a devilish grin forms on his face. “Do you need to be punished, Miss Dunlop?”
“Do you think I need to be punished?” I ask.
“I think you do.”
“And exactly how would you do that?”
“Don’t play a game you can’t finish, Tiffany. I’m very good at it,” Dean retorts.
“Oh, really? You may be good at it. But I perfected it. Try me, Mr. Lukas. See exactly where it gets you.”
“Ahem… Am I interrupting something?” Dean’s eyes shoot up to the sound of Donald’s voice.
“No, you haven’t. What’s up, Don?” Dean asks, clearing his throat. I smile at him. I know that Donald didn’t believe that in the slightest. It was pretty damn obvious what was happening in here.
Donald walks in and takes a seat next to me. �
�Tiffany. Always a pleasure,” he expresses.
“You too, Mr. Masterson. How have you been?”
“Not as good as you it seems,” he comments with a knowing wink.
“Don, is there something you wanted? Or did you come in here to just harass my PA?”
“I came in here to discuss the event tomorrow. It is the opening of Berringer’s club, remember?”
“Of course. And what about it?”
“Well, we’ve hit a snag. Hilary is unable to attend because she decided that going horseback riding yesterday was a good idea. Short version, she fell off and broke her ankle. She can’t work.”
“Tiffany will do it,” Dean states.
“Um, excuse me? Tiffany will do what?” I ask, appalled he’d just hand me over like a toy. I don’t know anything about what this Hillary chick does.
“She doesn’t have the experience. She doesn’t know the rundown of the night or anything. We can’t possibly expect her to take on Hilary’s job.”
You tell him, Donald!
“Well, get somebody else to do it.”
“There isn’t anybody else,” Donald states, defeated.
“Well, there you have it.” Dean looks at me. “Hilary was the floor manager for tomorrow’s event. The club opening for Berringer. You should know the event.”
I nod my head. I do know it. I’ve been running around, helping stuff get organized and ensuring that the staff had everything they needed for the event.
“You will be working it. I will be there, and so will Donald. We are always at these events. Your job is to ensure that the whole night goes swimmingly. Meaning that you need to make sure that everyone is where they need to be and are doing what they are supposed to be. If there is anything that is needed, it is your responsibility to facilitate that. Got it?”
“Yes, Mr. Lukas.”
“Good. You will need to meet with the team heading the event tomorrow night and let them know that you will be reporting to them. Set up an emergency meeting so that you aren’t wandering around to all the different departments to tell them.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Okay then. Well, I’ll leave you two to your meeting,” Donald states with a slap of the hand to his legs.
“No, that’s fine. We are done here. Thank you, Tiffany, for filling in.”
“You’re welcome.” I get up out of my seat and make my way to my desk. Brigitte rushes over to me.
“What was that about?” she asks.
“I’ve been asked to fill in for Hilary, because apparently she broke her ankle horseback riding,” I reply.
“Oh, shit! I hope she’s okay.” She rears back in shock and compassion.
“I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, she is a bit of a klutz. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” I ask.
“Hilary acts as our company’s floor manager. She liaises with the floor manager of the club. It’s not easy work, it’s actually quite hard. I remember Hilary saying how she had to deal with such stupid people sometimes on the job.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ve had experience with organizing certain events, so I can handle anything they can throw at me.”
“I hope so, because with some of the nightmare stories she’s told me, you’ll want to rip your hair out by the end of the night.”
I arrive at the club in the morning. Dean passed my tasks for the day to Brigitte to complete in my absence. Today is all about ensuring that everything is set up for this event. The club is modern chic and reminds me of the inside of a high-class strip club. Yes, I’ve had to pretend to be one of them before. It wasn’t the most elegant of jobs, but sometimes you have to do what is required in order to hit your mark. I enter from the staff entrance, walking down the hallway, past the kitchen and the offices, and into the main area of the bar. The inside is beautiful and resplendent in design. Two big chandeliers hang over the dance floor with a DJ booth at the far end. In the middle is the seating area, grand tables, and chairs makes this place light up with wealth and style. Exactly the aim of this establishment. On the opposite end is the bar which is all black backed with glass. There are four tiers lined with alcohol. Some are the more bottom of the range and grows in price, with the top being shelved with the most expensive scotch, whiskey, vodka, and other spirits that would make an average person broke an hour into being here. People are bustling around, making sure that the setup for the place is perfect. My job is for the night time, but I need to get to know the staff here and to meet my counterpart. I spot a man in a suit walking to the bar and immediately know that he’s either the manager or the owner.
He spots me before I reach him and he smiles. “Hello, you must be Tiffany. Dean speaks highly of you. I’m Brett.” He offers me his hand and I take it obligingly.
“Nice to meet you, Brett.”
“So Hilary broke her ankle, huh? That’s rather unfortunate. Lucky for me, I have a backup. Have you ever managed a bar opening before?”
“I have not, but I have organized an event before. It was more for a charity though.”
“Not the same, but it’ll have to do. I’m sure you will do a fantastic job. I know Dean wouldn’t have put you in at the last minute if you couldn’t handle it. I trust that man’s judgment. Okay, follow me and I’ll introduce you to Lydia. She will be working with you tonight. She’s my floor manager. She’ll give you the lowdown of what will be required of you.”
We walk out the front of the bar and down the ramp to the outside courtyard area, which is even more beautifully designed than the inside. There are little lights hanging in the bushes that surround the space. Little candles sit on each table and there are booths that sit along the bushes. The right hand side is cordoned off with a velvet rope. This is the VIP section. This will be the spot for anybody that is friends with the owner, or has paid a high price to be classified as VIP. We make our way to the left and a woman bending over and rearranging one of the little lights.
“Lydia,” Brett calls to her. She stands up immediately and smiles when she sees us. “Lydia, this is Tiffany. You two will be working very closely tonight.”
“Hi, Tiffany. Nice to meet you,” she says cheerfully.
“Hi, Lydia. Nice to meet you too.”
“Okay, I’ll leave you to it,” Brett says, walking away.
“Before the event starts, I just need you to manage your staff from LMPR. Make sure that they know what their jobs are and where they are stationed. My staff are just the bar staff and wait staff who will be going around with canapes and drinks. The VIP section will be managed by your staff, and unless they are on the list, nobody is allowed there. Your job is to make sure that the guests are happy. Anything they need outside of food and drinks will be referred to you. If there is a problem at the front with the host, they will refer to you. If there is any issue with stock, that falls on me. Understand?”
“Guests my responsibility, stock, wait staff, food and drinks, your responsibility.”
“Awesome! Now, if I’m busy and you aren’t, I will require you to help me out with some things. The opening should run well. This is the third bar and club I’ve opened with Brett and there has never been an issue before.”
“I won’t let either of you down.”
“I hope not. We’ve worked with Dean Lukas since the very beginning and trust him wholeheartedly. I’m used to working with Hilary, but it seems she’s bloody gone and hurt herself, the idiot.” She laughs lightly at the end to make sure I know that it was said in jest and not in spite. “If you have any questions at all, please feel free to come and get me. Both Dean and Donald will be here tonight. Of course, if they ask you to do something, you do it. They are your bosses after all. I think it’s going to be a good night. I have a good feeling about you, Tiffany. The VIP section is for the celebrities that are invited guests of Brett and Dean. Nobody is allowed in that area, and any of the regular guests harassing any of the celebrities must be escorted out immediately. There are
no second chances for them. You will be notified on the comms, and you’ll need to arrange for one of the security to come and remove them. I think that’s everything I need to advise you of for the time being. If I think of anything else, I’ll let you know.”
“Cool. I guess I should head to LMPR to ensure that we are all set at our end.”
“Fantastic. I will expect you to be here three hours before anybody else gets here. Dress in whatever you’d like, just make sure that it is classy and you aren’t showing too much leg or chest. We want you to look nice, not like a whore we pulled up off the street.”
Woah. She doesn’t hold back.
“Got it. Classy not slaggy,” I confirm.
The night is going well, and so far there have been no problems. Everyone is on their best behavior and dressed in their finest. I observe the area, keeping an eye out for any fires that need to be extinguished, when I feel someone behind me.
“Everything is going well. Good job.” This is the highest praise I have ever received from Dean in the couple of months I’ve worked for him.
“Thank you,” I say without looking at him. I’ve already seen him earlier in the evening, and it’s had my stomach doing flip-flops all night. If I look at him, I know I’ll throw myself at him, and this is not the time nor the place for such things.
“This is running smoother than when Hilary manages things,” he compliments. “I may just have to add this to your job description.”
“Don’t do that, Mr. Lukas. I’m enjoying the change of scenery, but this is definitely not something I could do full time. I’m more of a behind-the-scenes kind of person.”
“Keep up the good job. Brett and Lydia are very pleased with how you are doing tonight.”
“I appreciate it. If you’ll excuse me. I should go and wander around the front.”
I walk off, taking a stroll around the main area where the public are. Everyone is having a good time and drinking. Smiling and laughing faces are seen all round. The DJ they hired for the night is very popular in the music scene and actually has some major hits on the charts at the moment.