Dirty Fake Fiancé

by Sky Corgan

  The man teasingly tugs at the woman's underwear for a bit. Then he takes a pair of scissors and cuts them away. The sheer vulnerability of the situation turns me on—that she has no power against him. I don't understand why I'm enjoying this. Worse, why I'm starting to fantasize about my boss doing the same thing to me.

  I shy away when the woman's pussy is exposed, shifting my weight on Xan's lap. His cock twitches in response, and heat shoots through me. It's so incredibly crude but sexy at the same time. Again I think about how I want to see his cock. How I...

  I chew my bottom lip, hating myself for thinking it. The thought was definitely there, though. I want him inside of me. Want to feel what it would be like for him to claim me.

  No doubt, hundreds of women have thought the same thing about Xan before. I've always managed to see him as nothing but my boss. Until today. Today changed everything. Now I'm no better than the rest, wanting the same depraved things. It feels like I'm falling from grace and there's no one to catch me. Somehow, I need to make all of these feelings stop. I need to keep things professional. But it's so difficult when I'm nearly naked sitting on my boss' lap watching a porno.

  The man unties his wife's legs only to flip her onto her back and bind her thighs open. Watching him work the rope is a brief distraction from the overall perversion of the video. I wonder if Xan is into this type of stuff—tying women up. He has to be if this is what he picked for us to watch. Will he eventually do this to me? Tie me up and render me powerless? And then will I feel less guilt if he touches me? The idea is certainly appealing.

  The man meticulously cuts the woman's dress off, and I scowl at the waste. I'm not sure why it bothers me so much. Probably because I can barely afford the clothes on my back. And it makes me think of the shirt that Xan ruined earlier. Hopefully, if he fires me, I'll get reimbursed for it, though that's a lot to hope for.

  As soon as the man has the woman naked, he runs his fingertips over her nipples. I can feel mine beading inside my camisole as my arousal makes its way upstairs. I glance down and am embarrassed to see the hard buds pressing through my top. Hopefully, Xan can't tell.

  As if noticing my distraction, he tightens his grip on me, pressing me down against his erection. It rubs against my panties, pushing my folds slightly open, and I moan just before gasping at the sound. When my eyes shoot up to see if Xan heard, he's looking down at me with a smirk that's so sexy it's sinful.

  “I told you that you would like the video.” He bucks up against me slightly, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from moaning again.

  “I don't.” I refuse to give him the satisfaction of the truth, wanting to add that I think it's disgusting. I dare not chance upsetting him, though.

  “You don't, do you?” he muses. “I bet your panties are already getting wet. Should I check?”

  “No!” I squeeze my thighs together, nearly falling off of his lap from the effort.

  “No getting away from me,” he growls hungrily into my ear, sending a shiver through me that settles straight in my core. Never in a million years would I want to get away from him when he speaks to me like that. His voice demands my obedience. All of it. It drains my willpower. Drains my resolve. But it fills the desire inside of me like a well in a thunderstorm.

  “Let's just...keep watching,” I say breathily because I need a distraction. All my thoughts are of wanting things I've never wanted before tonight—things that can't happen.

  “As you wish.” Xan nuzzles the shell of my ear with the bridge of his nose, and the affection swells my heart with a different kind of desire. I want him to be mine. It's illogical, but I want more than boss and employee. I want everything that the world can't and won't give me—the fantasies of a greedy girl overstepping her bounds.

  The man begins playing with his wife's naked cunt, and she writhes up to meet his touch. He parts her folds, teasingly flicking his fingertip back and forth across her clit. She moans loudly, the expression on her face pure euphoric bliss.

  “Get up for a moment.” Xan gives my hip a gentle slap.

  A rush of relief comes over me as he allows me to slide off of his lap and onto the recliner next to him.

  I keep my eyes glued to the screen as Xan reaches down to adjust himself, but I'm painfully aware of everything he's doing. The sound of his zipper being pulled down dwarfs the moans of the woman on screen. Within seconds, his gorgeous cock is exposed, and I can feel the uncomfortable wetness on my panties as I rub my thighs together. Have I ever been this wet before? I certainly don't remember a time. If he asks me to get back on his lap again...

  Of course, he does. And not so subtly either.

  “Straddle me.” He squeezes my thigh, though his expression is void of the lust that was there earlier. It's as if he's asking me to do some menial task instead of telling me to put my wet cunt on his naked cock.

  “You won't be able to see the screen if I do.” I try to weasel my way out of having to sit on him without pissing him off.

  “I'll be able to see it just fine.” He shoots me a look of annoyance that snuffs out any further resistance.

  As carefully as I can, I crawl on top of him.

  “Not like that.” He stops me, the wickedness returning to his gaze. “Turn around. Face the screen. You want to watch the rest of the movie, don't you?”

  “I...” I stutter, though I'm not even sure what I was going to say.

  “Like this.” He guides me, turning me around so that I'm facing away from him. “Put your knees up on the recliner. Lean forward a little.” He places his hand on the small of my back, forcing me into an awkward position. I place my hands on the recliner in front of us to stabilize myself, worried I might fall forward otherwise.

  As if sensing my fear, Xan grabs my hips and pulls me back towards him. My pussy smacks against hard flesh, and when I realize it's his dick, I feel a current between my legs so strong that it steals my breath. The feeling of his cock pressing against the full length of my slit is so intense that I see stars from the sensations it causes.

  “Fuck,” Xan curses, and before I have time to register what's happening, I feel a strong pressure against my clit prolonging the wave of pleasure surging through me as he pushes the pad of his index finger into my underwear and massages in circles. “You came just from me repositioning. You are ripe, aren't you? And your little slit is already soaking wet for me.”

  It's too crude. He's beyond crossed the line this time. As soon as the blinders of my orgasm disappear, I try to dismount him. He grips onto me and pulls me back, his arm wrapping across my chest. I bend awkwardly, feeling his hot breath on my ear. “You're not going anywhere.” His initial words are aggressive, but what follows has a strange softness to it. “Just relax. I'm not going to fuck you. Not unless you want me to. Not yet.”

  Not yet. His words ring with a promise that both terrifies me and makes me want him more than I've ever wanted anything in my life. My heart is thundering in my chest. I know I need to leave before we get to the yet part, but knowing we're not there yet makes me want to stay—makes me want to see what he's going to do—what else he can make my body feel.

  I exhale a long breath to steady myself. When he realizes I'm not going to try to escape anymore, Xan loosens his grip on me.

  “Just watch the video,” he whispers. “Keep watching and try to let yourself go. I know this is out of your comfort zone, but I promise I won't hurt you.”

  I'm less worried about him hurting me and more worried about him besmirching my honor. He's already doing a good job of it—on his way to...

  “Relax.” He rakes his fingers tenderly through my hair. It feels so soothing that I can't help but acquiesce. These intimate moments with him are wrong but precious to me somehow. I'm not sure how to process them.

  When he stops touching my hair, I try to refocus on the porno. The man has two of his fingers stuffed inside of his wife's pussy. She's moaning loudly, and I have a full view of him pounding into her.

  The wetnes
s on his fingers reminds me of my own—the wetness that Xan obviously noticed. I can feel his cock resting against my folds. Thinking that my juices are soaking him is embarrassing. I subtly try to move away, but he just pulls me back. While it alarmed me before, I kind of like it now—that he wants to feel me. It makes me less ashamed of my body's reaction to him. If he didn't like it, he would have pushed me away by now.

  The man pulls his fingers out glistening. He reaches for the front of his pants, and seconds later he's stroking his cock and lining it up with his wife's helplessly spread pussy. I close my eyes and turn my face away, not wanting to watch any further.

  “Christiana,” Xan's voice draws my attention. It's suddenly the only sound in the room.

  “Sir?” I answer reflexively.

  “You're not watching.”

  I'm surprised he noticed.

  “Would you prefer that I stimulate you instead?” Without waiting for my answer, I feel Xan's cock slide across my folds. The movement is so subtle, but it still causes a familiar jolt of electricity. Not the current that sent me over the edge before, but one of the tiny sparks that led up to it.

  Anticipating that I'm going to squirm, Xan plants his hands on my hips to keep me in place.

  “No, sir. I'll watch.” I turn my eyes back to the paused screen. The scene doesn't continue. Nor does Xan stop moving. His erect cock presses hard against me, rubbing crudely.

  “I can feel your clit pulsing. You know what that is, Christiana?” Every time he says my name, it makes me tingle. When I don't immediately respond, he continues, “It's arousal.”

  “It's not,” I whisper, wishing he wasn't right.

  His fingers loosen their grip on my hips, his fingertips crawling to the waistband of my underwear. I gasp as he wraps his hands around them and pulls them down over my ass.

  “Mister Sanderlin!” I look back at him pleadingly.

  “You want to be a good girl for me, don't you, Christiana? A good little assistant.” He balls his fist around the crotch of my panties, tugging them down until my pussy is fully exposed. The cool air rushes between us, soothing my heated parts. It's the first time I've realized how cold it is in the room. Maybe that's why my nipples are pushing against the camisole like they want to break through it.

  Xan grabs his cocks and shoves it in the space between my panties and my pussy. Again, I try to move forward, but he wraps an arm around my waist, drawing me back. I sit on his dick, the skin to skin contact driving me insane. He's not inside me. Not even close. I'm just...resting on top of his shaft.

  Xan's hand slides up between my breasts, wrapping around my throat. His grip is firm but nonthreatening. He pulls me against him and rhythmically bucks his hips for a moment before pausing. When his other hand touches my folds, I about jump out of my skin. Or I would have if there was anywhere to go. He's keeping me firmly in place. His fingers slip between my pussy lips, splaying them over his cock. Then he starts rocking again, his hot veiny length moving back and forth, rubbing me in the most sensual of ways.

  “Back,” he orders me, though he does all the repositioning himself, angling my hips so that when he bucks forward the tip of his cock slides over my clit. It's unbearably teasing. I'm trembling from my sheer fear and want of him.

  “Oh Christiana, your pussy is so soft and wet. You have no idea how much willpower it's taking not to fill you right now,” Xan groans. The sound of his voice so heavy with lust only heightens my own.

  I close my eyes and just let myself go. Each time he pulls away, I feel my body involuntarily moving back to writhe on top of him. Even though I'm inexperienced, I know that if his glans pets over my clit enough times, that earth shattering current that I experienced before will make a reappearance. I want it. Right now, nothing else matters. Not my religion. Not the fact that my boss is violating me in the best of ways. Just that one overwhelming feeling between my legs. That's all I care about obtaining.

  “Jesus Christ.” Xan's body falls away from me, and I follow him.

  His hands are gone. I'm moving of my own free will, using him—using his cock to bring me to that place that I so desperately need to find.

  I can feel the angel and the devil on my shoulder at war. The devil which almost never popped his head up before; he's there full-fledged, fighting to give me what I want.

  But is this what I really want? To do these sacred sexual acts with my boss? I'm doing them, so it must be.

  Xan's grip tightens around me, locking me in place. His breathing is unsteady. “Stop. You're going to make me come if you keep going. And this isn't about me.”

  I glance back at him just in time to feel his hand around my waist dip down between my legs. He pushes his hips back slightly, withdrawing his cock so that his fingertips can take its place rubbing my clit. He slides his index finger between my folds to gather some wetness, then deftly circles my cleft. The sensation that rolls through me makes my back arch.

  “Should I let you come?” he asks.

  I should say no. I should tell him to stop touching me. But instead, I whisper, “Yes, sir.”

  “I didn't hear you.”

  “Yes, sir,” I repeat more loudly, cringing from the need in my tone.

  “That's a good girl, Christiana.” He applies pressure now, and my clit throbs in climactic defiance.

  Within a few short strokes, my breath is stolen from me as I get what he forced me to want. I roll my hips and moan between clenched teeth, barely able to believe that anything could feel this good. I press against the palm around my neck to rest my head against my arm and pant. As if knowing that I need it, Xan lets me go so I can breathe and come down from the high he just gave me.

  I glance up at the frozen image on the screen of the woman's pussy spread wide by the man's cock. Is that what's next for me? For us? I can't allow it. I shouldn't have even done this. Xan forced me to, I tell myself. That's wrong, though, and I know it. He seduced me. He seduced me, and I didn't have enough self-control to be able to resist.

  Maybe he really is the devil, because I could have walked away from any other man—ran away—but not him.

  A mix of satisfaction and disappointment assaults me at the same time. It's a weird, conflicting combination of emotions. I don't know how to process it. All I know is that if we take things any further, I'm definitely going to regret it.

  Xan moves behind me, tucking his cock back into his pants before pulling my underwear up over my ass. Did he read my mind? How does he always seem to know exactly when and where to stop?

  He gives my hip a gentle pat, signaling for me to climb off of him. I do, sitting next to him awkwardly.

  All the heat that was in his expression before is gone. Now he just looks distant.

  “You can go to bed now,” he dismisses me coldly.

  “Huh?” I ask because I'm still not sure what's going on.

  “That will be all for tonight.” He flips off the screen with the remote.

  I stand, getting the feeling that he can't wait to be rid of me. That hurts somehow. After all the intimate things we did, he just wants me to go away. Did I disappoint him? No doubt, I've been nothing but a disappointment to him since I walked into this house. He was probably expecting some promiscuous girl who would be ready to jump on his dick the second he pulled it out. Just like any other girl he could have selected from the office would have been. I'm not that kind of girl, though. And I never will be.

  I sulk as I return to my room, feeling used and all sorts of other unpleasant things. He's not the only person disappointed in me. I'm disappointed in me, and that hurts far more than displeasing him. I don't understand how in just one afternoon he was able to make me do so many things that I never would have dreamed of doing with a stranger. Is it because he's attractive or charming or my boss? Or perhaps a combination of the three? Or maybe—just maybe—he is the devil sent to test me. And I'm failing miserably.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  I've always been a light sleeper. Most of the time, I wa
ke up before the alarm goes off. I think it's a habit born from consideration for the people around me. Apartment walls are thin. Ruby doesn't go into work until later in the day. Dorothy wakes up whenever she feels like it. My mother usually gets up with me to start baking her bread. Well, she did before pneumonia rendered her practically brain dead from oxygen loss.

  I wake up with tears in my eyes. In my dreams, she dies. We waited too long to get her to the hospital, knowing that we wouldn't be able to afford the bills. That's almost what happened in reality. Had we waited one more day, she would be gone. As it is, we're all suffering for dragging our feet. My mother the most.

  I'm not really sure where the blame lies, but it's just easier to cast it on myself. When she first fell ill, she insisted that it was just a cold and she could get through it without going to the doctor. Then she started skipping out on work, sleeping most of the time. Whenever we woke her, she insisted on no doctor. But then we couldn't wake her.

  I kneel beside the bed and say my morning prayers, asking God to help get me through this. Surely, he sent me here because of my mother. This is either my punishment or my reward. I can't really tell which one. On one hand, I'll be able to send money home and pay off my mother's bills faster. On the other, I have to submit to Xan's will, and I know it will only get more carnal and inappropriate. I would be naive to believe he won't eventually want to have sex with me. Can I really let things go that far?