His Sugar Baby

by Fiona Murphy

  “Yes, I do. Now open your mouth.” Her eyes go wide but she doesn’t object. Since the first time she took my cock into her mouth she has woken me with her mouth on my cock more times than I have ever hoped for. She also goes down on her knees at the lightest urging from me, just as often without any urging whatsoever. The first time I took her by her hair and pulled her toward my cock she went willingly, the second time I pushed her down demanding she suck my cock she was so excited by my demand I could see her pussy leaking down to her inner thighs. I love knowing something she once had outlawed was something she now takes pleasure in.

  Wrapping her hand around the base of my cock she licks me clean, at first slowly until she’s sucking on me hungrily. The disappointment I’m not hard yet is clear on her face. She lays her head on my stomach, running her fingers lightly over my cock.

  “Soon, sweetheart, give my body a minute to recover. You only wanted vanilla in the past, yet you like it rough and you’re a natural submissive, getting wet at a dominant hand. The naughty, dirty you like so much. Have you wondered about that as much as I have?”

  She laughs as she presses a kiss to my chest. “I was raised to be a submissive. I also love the way you take control of me. I love it when you treat me as if I’m here only for your pleasure. I love it because it gets me wet to give you all the pleasure you demand. When it’s over for you, it’s not over. You take me to heaven again and again, every time. You aren’t selfish in the slightest. I trust I’m yours to take care of so I trust you.

  “When you get rough I can tell you don’t mean to be, you get carried away, and that’s exciting to me, too. To know my body pushes you past your control, even then I trust you. I’ve never trusted anyone sexually before.”

  “All these years, and with Frank, you didn’t trust anyone?”

  “No.” Her grey eyes are clear, not a cloud in sight. “My ex-husband had no idea what he was doing. Sex was boring, which was good, because when it wasn’t boring it was painful because I could never get wet. The men, you know, every man they had rules they agreed to and so did I. Tabatha and a few very experienced women showed me what to do, had to show me what to do.

  “Twenty, married for two pitiful years, and I had no idea what do. They showed me how to give the men what they wanted, not just sex but the talking, the listening. I learned how to pretend to get through an appointment.

  “There were a few men, the regulars I had who seemed interested in my comfort, my orgasm. Ultimately though, it wasn’t for me. It was because they wanted me to feel better about them, to please them.

  “How did you end up with Tabatha? She doesn’t take just anybody, she’s very particular about her clients and her women.”

  “After the last time with the landlord, I ended up huddled on the couch. A woman, Dana, had become friendly with me in the hospital. We swapped horror stories about our sick kids. She came by to check up on me after finding out about Thomas dying. I told her about Billy telling me that I was on my own and the repeated rape by the landlord and how I had no one and no money.

  “Dana got me up, poured coffee down my throat, and cleaned me up. She asked me if I was willing to die or if I wanted to keep living. If I kept the way I was going I’d be dead in a few weeks. If I wanted to live and give my parents, Billy, and everyone else a big fuck-you and live my life, I had to get up and start living.

  “Dana admitted she had been working for Tabatha for the last year. Even with health insurance, because she was not working to be with her daughter, their bills were overwhelming for her and her family.

  “Tabatha had started from a place pretty close to my own. She was pregnant and married at eighteen. Then her daughter died from an asthma attack at a year old. When Dana pushed me in front of Tabatha she spilled my story, about Thomas making it to only twenty months.

  “Tabatha took pity on me. She laid out a few thousand on just cleaning me up and making me suitable: a haircut, clothes, lingerie. Then she found me a place with one of her girls. You’re right, Tabatha is extremely picky. I’m lucky she took me in.

  “I was still numb to pretty much everything at the time. I stayed numb for the next few months. I held onto that numbness as a means of making it through every day. When it finally faded away, all I could do was fake it. Honestly, I didn’t want to enjoy sex. I was afraid, really, of what it meant about me if I liked sex. Gradually though, I realized feeling guilty about something that felt so good was a waste of time and energy.”

  “I’m glad you figured that out.”

  “Me, too.”

  “I’m also very glad you trust me enough to know all I want is for you to always feel as good as you make me feel. Don’t be afraid to ask for what you need from me.”

  “Okay, it’s just, like I said; I love when you take charge. You make me wet when you get all rough and forceful. But if I go too long without what I want then I’ll ask.” Her hand wraps around my cock. “Do you think I can get a spanking and another hard fucking?”

  Chapter Ten

  I wake up alone and for once, I’m relieved. Clutching Grant’s pillow to me, I inhale the scent of him. Last night, after we both lay there slowly coming down from our orgasms, the air around us felt different. Telling myself I was crazy. I tried to sleep only I couldn’t, neither could Grant. Did he feel it to?

  Was it all the talking about my past? I’m a little embarrassed at my admissions, yet as I stand under the hot water in the shower the embarrassment dissolves. I had an important, long past due discussion with my lover about the sex we have. It was the kind of discussion every woman should have with her lover. If Cosmo was to be believed, it was the solution to having a healthy, open sex life.

  Considering sex was the reason I was here, it made sense in every way. My list of no-gos wasn’t enough, I know that now. Then again, I hadn’t known just what and how much I liked the things Grant introduced me to. So maybe it wasn’t past due, just due.

  In my closet, I go to the clothes from my accounting days. I have yet to learn to throw things away and they might come in handy in career 2.0, for now they stayed. Thinking of meeting with an advisor I make a face, changing up from the normal loose dresses and maxi skirts I love. I find loose black trousers and team it with a button down short sleeved white blouse.

  When I walk into the kitchen Grant is finishing his eggs and looks at me. “Is that really what you want to wear?”

  God, he gets me. “No, but you’re wearing a suit.” And holy crap does he look good in it. Maybe it’s because I rarely see him in one that I’m already picturing undressing him, very slowly.

  “Go change into something you feel comfortable in. They want the billionaire to show up in a suit, it looks better in the pictures.”

  Back in my closet I pull on a plain black maxi skirt. Huh, all the good eating is doing me some good. I fit into a silk pink long sleeve shirt with large faux buttons meant to be worn out of pants. When it first came in the mail, from a catalog, despite it being a size fourteen, I could barely get my fat arms inside. I had been too lazy to send it back. Now it fits perfectly.

  After much sadness and pain, I came to find my Keds weren’t cut out for traipsing through the city. Since I would be walking who knows how long around a campus, I reach for a pair of lace ups suggested by a very nice lady in a shoe store when she saw me buying new Keds.

  These things were awesome, from the outside they looked like just another cool pair of shoes a teenager might wear. Inside the arch support had me going back and buying them in different colors.

  Back in the kitchen Grant smiles, pulling me to him with a kiss on my forehead. “What time do you need to be there?”

  “Ten, you know me and early mornings.” I admit.

  “Yes, I do. Eat breakfast and we’ll leave around nine-thirty. How does that sound?”

  “Sounds good. We’ll either need to cab it or catch the El, though.”

  Frowning, he looks to Alice, “Where is the University of Chicago?”

 
; Alice frowns darkly, “Hyde Park, sir. Right through the southside.”

  Grant looks at me as if I’ve betrayed him. “No fucking way. You aren’t going there.”

  Now I feel betrayed. “You said I could, you promised.”

  “That was before I knew it meant going through the heart of the southside. Only five miles on the other side of the school people are dying at a rate of two and three every damned day.”

  This wasn’t fair. He promised. “I need to go and talk to real advisors and real students. I’ve already done the online way and it didn’t work. What am I supposed to do?

  “This is my future, not yours, my future I have to figure out. My clock is ticking here. I can’t just keep fumbling around hoping it will work out. You promised!”

  Very ungentle hands are on my hips yanking me into Grant’s hard body. “God damn it, woman, this is your safety and fuck all your ticking clock. Don’t. Damn it.”

  I’m crying and I hate myself for it. I hate him for making me cry and tell him so as an arm slides around my waist. He uses a tissue to wipe my tears. “Fuck.” He exhales as his head rests against mine. I can feel him vibrating as he thinks. “Calm down and eat your breakfast.”

  I brace a hand on the table, not ready for him to break his hold on me. As he heads to his office, I wonder if I pushed too far. If it was worth it, and if I’ll regret it.

  Alice slides a plate of eggs whites in front of me, with wheat toast. Alice has never fixed me egg whites and wheat toast before. I’m sure I’m being punished. The coffee she sets down with half and half confirms it, it could strip paint. At least she still gives me my fresh squeezed orange juice, but I’m guessing it’s because it’s already prepared.

  I don’t argue with any of it though, because I’m miserable. Hating that I argued with Grant, hating that he’s mad at me. I take a gulp of the coffee, willing to suffer through the punishment I deserve.

  Pushing my clean plate away I sit wondering what to do. Neither yoga or a book appeals now. I don’t hear anything until Grant grabs my hair and pulls until I’m looking up at him. He’s not angry, his eyes are actually smiling. The words come out of me in a rush. “I’m sorry I got all... you know.”

  His kiss is soft and light against my lips. “I promised. I keep my promises to you in the best way I can. We aren’t going to the University of Chicago, we’re going to Northwestern. It’s a better university, better advisors. It’ll be a little later, another hour.”

  I want to argue, but don’t dare. Grant was giving me what I asked for in the way he felt he could give it to me. “Thank you.

  “You’re welcome. I’m sorry, too. I should have known what I was agreeing to. I thought you meant the University of Illinois at Chicago.” Seeing my eyes sparkle at his mistake, he tugs at my ponytail. “Brat.”

  “Why aren’t we going there, then?” I wonder aloud, curious.

  With a quick move, he steals the elastic hairband holding my ponytail in place, letting my hair loose the way he likes it. Wrapping my hair around his hand he pulls me up by it and we go into the living room. “Like I said, better university, better advisors.”

  “Okay, it’s just I could afford a state university, no way could I afford Northwestern.” Grant sits in the big comfy chair and pulls me into his arms.

  “Sweetheart, I thought this was about finding something that appealed for going forward. You don’t necessarily have to go to Northwestern and you could afford it. Spending money on a good school is worth it in the connections you make alone. Networking starts in school.”

  I consider what he says. “I don’t doubt you’re right, but I think it would depend on what I want to do. I’m sure if I’d done the accounting at Northwestern I could have found a better job. I saw the looks on the faces of the interviewers when it came to my degree. It didn’t matter it came from a real university, not one created online. It wasn’t hard for them to figure out if I was in Boston then I couldn’t get a degree from a school in another state. They always asked as if they really needed me to clarify it for them.”

  “Are you sure you’ll even need to go to school? Why don’t we take one day at a time? We’ll go to Northwestern, you’ll take a look around. If something interests you then we’ll go from there.” Grant runs his hand through my hair the way he likes to do when we were lying in bed.

  I bury my face into Grant’s neck, inhaling the scent of him. This is nice, Grant all around me as he holds me close, a large hand cupping my ass like he loved to do when he held me. We both become comfortable enough we slip into a doze, only waking when Grant’s phone begins to buzz. Wrapping my arms around Grant’s neck I pull him closer, not wanting to let him go.

  Grant’s arms tighten around me. “Sweetheart, we have to go. The car is downstairs waiting.” I pull him down for a kiss. It’s hot and sweet and too short. “We’ll pick back up tonight.”

  “Tonight.” I promise as I nip at his neck. He pays me back with a tweak of my nipple as we get up from the comfy chair.

  Grant opens the front door for me, yelling at Alice not to worry about dinner tonight.

  Downstairs, instead of a Town Car there is a limo waiting. I see it and look at Grant. He shrugs, “Northwestern wants to toot their horn that a billionaire came to visit, you give them a billionaire. Also it’s a bit of a drive; why not make it a comfortable one?”

  I give the driver a nod of thanks as I get into the car and slide over. Putting my seatbelt on, I watch the privacy partition go up. Looking over at Grant I remember that first night. It’s clear he does too. “I think I should order a limo every time we go out, and always make sure the partition goes up first thing.”

  “We don’t go out very often.” I remind him.

  “Does that bother you?”

  Seeing the answer is important to him, I take the time to consider my answer and his reaction. “I meant what I said when I said I don’t like all the time it takes to get ready, the hair, the makeup, the dresses. But I also like to try new things.

  “I also like going out to the theater. I like baseball, so I’ve been to Wrigley to see the Cubs play. When I go out during the day, a few times it’s been to see a movie, or a play or to Wrigley.

  “Don’t be mad, please. I thought I was doing what you wanted. You don’t want to go out. I’m okay taking myself out.”

  He’s quiet, staring out at the passing city. Until, finally, he nods. “You’re right. I’m not mad. You’ve done exactly as I wrote out in the agreement. The way I wanted things to be when we started.”

  Even though he says he’s not mad, the air vibrates with something I can’t define. Then I remember the change he’d mentioned yesterday. “If you don’t want to go out with me during the day, you really don’t have to. I can go out with just Walters.”

  Grant doesn’t look at me, he’s still looking out the window. “Don’t change your plans because of me. Unless you want to.” His eyes meet mine, glowing blue fire. “Do you want to go out without me?”

  “Are you crazy? I love going out with you. When I go out I hate that you aren’t there.” The words slip unheeded, my stomach somersaults at how clingy, needy, they sound. Then his hand is in my hair pulling me to him and I stop thinking of sounding needy.

  I stop thinking entirely, lost in his all-consuming kiss. Hot, wet, his tongue owns me, showing me what he wants, will get, from me. His hand is under my skirt finding me as wet now as I was that first night, thick fingers slide up inside me and within minutes he takes me to heaven.

  I take in air, barely able to move I watch him lick and suck his fingers. His grin is naughty, “I couldn’t help myself.”

  Two can play that game. I undo my seatbelt with a click that makes him go still in surprise. Moving fast, I’m on my knees in front of him, my hands freeing him. “What?”

  It’s the only word he gets out before I suck lightly on the head of his cock, with gentle pressure, before sucking all of him inside. Grant moans as I hum once he’s deep in my throat. His hands i
n my hair set the pace for him, but I want to make him come faster. My hands cup his soft, silky pouch, gently massaging him.

  With a grunt of my name he speeds up the pace then he’s coming down my throat. I feel like a queen, owner of all I survey watching the way his body is as boneless as he makes me feel. His head rolls back against the seat, his eyes close.

  I take my time putting him back together before I get into my seat and put my seatbelt back on.

  “I thought civilized people don’t do things like that in the back of the car?” Grant’s voice is husky as he looks at me.

  “Mmmm... you’ve shown me civilized is very boring.” I lean toward him to kiss him on the cheek.

  Chapter Eleven

  Watching Anne step out of the car, her hand in mine, tightening with fear, I marvel at what this woman has come to mean to me. I whisper, “I’m here.” and watch her smile, her eyes a serene dove grey.

  Is it that? I wonder, that she trusts in me so completely my presence is enough to calm her. Maybe it’s the way she smiles when she sees me. Her smile alone when she finds me still in bed with her is enough to bring me to my knees at the awe it fills me with.

  I know I’m lucky someone as beautiful, intelligent, kind, and funny as Anne is mine. While I have no illusions money is where we began, it isn’t the money that has freed her from her inhibitions or led her to share a past she wanted to forget.

  Watching her become who she never thought she could or would be has been captivating. While Anne thought she had come to terms with her past, she hadn’t, not really. Not with the time she spent as an escort but more importantly not with the lessons drummed into her as she grew up. Even though she had lived her life by her own rules for a long time, the foundation laid down by her parents still lingered.

  The ways she revels in her newfound pleasure of the flesh is also eye opening, a window into the nimble mind of hers. A mind that was open to every new experience. Her excitement over the idea of going back to school is painfully sweet. Something others took for granted or resented, Anne is looking forward to.