Smothered

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Smothered Page 2

by Christa Wick


  "Don't move," he ordered.

  Rising, he went into the kitchen. He grabbed a roll of paper towels and the plastic grocery bag she had folded on the counter earlier that day. He ripped one sheet off, clearing her juices from his body.

  Turning the hot water on, he ran a second sheet under the tap then squeezed the excess moisture from it. He prowled into the living room, the lamp's feeble light dancing against his skin as his powerful thigh muscles flexed with each step.

  "Spread your legs."

  Lila did as he commanded, her gaze on the floor. He started to wipe his cum from her.

  "Look at me."

  She hesitated, all the power she felt as she rode him had evaporated after his climax. His hand stopped moving between her legs, forcing her to lift her gaze.

  "My driver will return Saturday night at nine." Finished erasing his DNA from her flesh, he dropped the paper towel into the grocery bag and started dressing. "I don't care how you dress, there will be clothes for you to change into where he takes you or you'll come to me nude. Same deal, twenty-five thousand dollars. Is that agreed?"

  Again, she hesitated. Even if she paid taxes on the money from this session, it would last her another twelve months of failed job searches. Somehow, she didn't think he would report the time spent with her on some balance sheet. That meant the money would last longer. She didn't have to consent to a second time.

  "Don't try to drive the price up, Lila. I won't repeat the offer."

  Lila blinked, not quite caving. If she went, it wouldn't be about the money. It would be to steal back the power she had felt as she rode him, as she granted and withheld the oxygen that he couldn't live without. Maybe next time, she could keep that power a little longer and leave him with a little less.

  She nodded then looked away as he dressed and left, taking the plastic bag with its soiled paper towels.

  **********

  Lila pampered herself before Saturday and Warren's driver landed on her doorstep. Nothing too obvious -- she didn't want Gates to think she had primped for him. So she indulged in a trip to the hair salon to tighten her luxurious curls, a seaweed facial and an expensive scrub to soften and polish all of her flesh. He might not see the difference, but he would feel it.

  She greeted the driver in a gray, stretchy skirt that narrowed at her knees. No nylons underneath, just sensible flats and panties that she had purposefully worn since Friday afternoon and masturbated in two hours before the driver's designated time of arrival.

  A black silk shift and lace bra covered the top of her body, her plump arms and the side folds of her breasts bared to the driver's view.

  Not that the man looked. His eyes were on his shoes when she opened the door and they stayed there as he escorted her to the limo and held its door open for her.

  "Thank you, Jeeves," she quipped, sliding into the seat and ignoring the safety belt.

  The door shut. Hearing his door open and close, she sneered at the dark glass. He probably couldn't see her. She didn't care if the gesture was wasted. The man likely received more per session than she did just to keep his mouth shut.

  Closing her eyes, she sank into the plush cushion-seat the limo offered and let her other senses feed her information. The cabin smelled like Warren. Dark spices warred with a light citrus and a hint of brown sugar. Sexy and tasty, the odor heated her pussy until fresh juices seeped onto the bottom panel of her lacy black underwear.

  She smiled at the undergarments. She had forced herself to visit Atlanta, guessing that the city catered to every kink and fetish imaginable if she only dug deep enough. She barely had to scratch the surface before she found a boutique lingerie that serviced women her size and larger.

  More than that, Lila had found respect in that little shop tucked away at the back of an alley. The owner Jules had provided her with several business cards of other men who would be interested in spending time with Lila should her current client base of one run out of money.

  A fresh smirk lifted the corners of Lila's mouth. She couldn't imagine Warren Gates running out of money. Twenty-five thousand dollars probably wasn't even one bet on a single hole between him and his golf buddies. The issue wasn't when he would run out of money, but when he would lose interest.

  She relaxed a little deeper into the seat, her mind wandering to encourage the flow of cream between her legs. Jules had counseled her on a number of techniques. Lila wasn't sure if she should use them. Perhaps Warren wanted a woman unschooled in his fetish. One he could command, one that wasn't yet jaded.

  Still, she imagined doing to Gates some of the things Jules had discussed. Imagined and imagined until the anticipation turned into a squirming dance, the tension verging on overwhelming as the limo slowed to a stop.

  Eager to be rid of his charge, the driver quickly opened her door. She looked around as he hustled her to an elevator. They were underground in a garage filled with collectible cars. Like her, the chassis were all big curves, their gleaming surface making them look as slick as she knew her thighs to be.

  The driver popped his head and one arm inside the elevator, punching the button to the second floor. Narrowly escaping the closing doors, he disappeared from sight before the elevator carried her up to her waiting billionaire.

  Rather, it carried her to a long corridor with an open door at its end, the room's interior providing the only light source for her journey. She traversed the distance, her legs beginning to ache as she crossed the room's threshold.

  She'd had a sense as she approached that there was no real furniture inside, just cushions on the floor and low standing tables. That suspicion was confirmed when she finally entered the space.

  Standing just inside the doorway, she scanned the room. Most of the tables provided a base for sculptures. The pieces were small in one sense, but large in another. All of them depicted women with the same rounded flesh and thick folds as Lila. The tiny heads topping the voluptuous hourglass bodies made her laugh. Gates had no need for brains in his women, just tits and ass.

  Turning her attention to the table in the center of the room, she spotted a small, folded notecard. She crossed to it and read the one-word command.

  "Strip."

  She felt the power of that first night with Gates in her trailer surge back into her body, straightening her spine and lifting her breasts. Reaching behind her, she unzipped the shift that covered her torso. She removed it slowly, uncertain whether he watched but imagining that he did.

  Her hands hesitated at the front clasp of her bra as she tried to anticipate which would please Warren more -- her heavy breasts gathered tight to her chest or hanging from her body as she moved the skirt down her hips and thighs.

  Free swinging, she decided. If he was watching, he would imagine their soft, yielding contours pressed against his nose and mouth.

  She undid the clasp and let the black lace fall to the floor. She kicked it to the side and started the slow, teasing removal of her skirt. The shoes followed. Standing only in her panties, she pushed all the other clothing into a pile on the floor then stepped to the biggest floor cushion the room had to offer.

  Rubbing her hand vigorously against her pussy, she coated the lace with a fresh layer of cream then peeled them down her legs and placed them carefully at the head of the cushion. Naked, she straightened and waited.

  Confirming that he had been watching, Warren opened the door at the opposite end of the room less than a minute later. Nude, his cock stretched the same hard line it had traveled in her trailer, the arrowhead tip ending just short of kissing his belly button.

  Closing the doors to the room behind him, he stopped.

  "Get on the cushion," she ordered. Warned by Jules that clients became increasingly submissive with each visit, Lila wondered whether and how long before Warren would obey almost any command she gave him.

  Seeing him stalk the few feet to the cushion and gracefully lower his body into some kind of meditative position, she knew his surrender wouldn't come quickly, if
ever.

  "On your back," she continued.

  He obeyed. She smiled, slowly walking the cushion's perimeter as she studied his body from every angle. Pure perfection and she knew how to make him come, how to bring him, if only for a few minutes, to an undone state, twitching and jerking.

  Approaching his head, she stepped onto the cushion. Her legs spread wide, she stood above his head.

  "Open your mouth."

  He did, his trusting obedience engendering an unfamiliar heat in her chest. Pushing the maudlin tenderness aside, she widened her stance. She rolled the muscles of her pussy up and down as she stared at his cock, imagining it inside her.

  She'd had only a few lovers, the droughts between them lengthening with each pound gained. She shoved the memories to the back of her head and concentrated on Warren's dick. It was thicker and longer than she'd ever had, bigger even than the one toy she'd bought online after her last lover walked out of her bedroom and her life.

  A cock like that would stretch her, bringing a brief, sweet pain as her body adjusted to its width. Battering in and out of her, the fat circumference would quickly swell her inner flesh, making her cunt as warm and smothering around the shaft as her breasts were against his face.

  The thought of riding Warren's big cock flooded Lila's insides until droplets of her arousal splashed sticky and warm against his face. Dragging her gaze from the thick shaft and heavy balls, she saw his tongue straining to catch her thick drops. When he had licked them clean, she swiveled her hips, her fingers splaying her labia open and flicking more fluid on him as a reward.

  His tongue ravenously worked the edges of his mouth and down his chin as he grasped his cock.

  "Don't," she warned. "That's mine. You keep those hands against the mat."

  Complying, he groaned.

  "Good boy." She moved toward his center and lowered her mass onto him, her face pointing in the direction of his feet. Making contact, she scooted backward until the heavy globes of her ass pressed down on his shoulders.

  Lila leaned forward, sinuously bobbing to spread her thick cream on his chest. Her breasts pressed against the hard muscles of his stomach, the nipples pinched between their bodies as her neck and face strained forward to hover over his cock.

  She studied its length and thickness. Almost as freakishly large in that one aspect of his anatomy as she was in all facets, she would still bet she could swallow him whole. She had no gag reflex to speak of, had experimentally fellated larger objects. Yes, she could take all of him, the first half filling her mouth and the rest pushing into her throat. Tighter than any pussy he would ever experience, she would fuck his cock with the muscles of her throat.

  She scooted back another six inches, the twin globes of her ass pressing against his face, his sharp, straight nose lined up at the crack that separated them. Pre-cum oozed from his thick cock as she started to smother him with her buttocks.

  Her fingers circled his shaft, squeezing and pumping as she wiggled her bottom. His tongue squirmed against the cleft and she took her own tentative lick, tonguing the cum hole and tasting him for the first time.

  His approval vibrated in a groan across her flesh. In a demonstration of his powerful body, he lifted his hips, forcing more of her weight onto his face. Lila flexed her thighs and pushed her weight forward until his ass sank to the floor.

  Taking another lick, she jiggled her ass, forcefully bouncing her flesh against his face. His toes curled, the soles of his feet arching as his calf muscles tightened.

  Allowing him a few quick gasps, she slid her knees further above his head, bringing her pussy to bear on his nose and mouth as she sank into place once more. Almost all of her torso's weight on his, she licked and nibbled lightly at the head of his cock.

  "I'm going to eat this," she threatened, unsure if he could even hear her until he groaned against her pussy and lifted his hips in offering. She repeated the warning. "I'm going to eat it and swallow it down then shit it out."

  Shocked at her own boldness, she froze. Warren's hips strained higher and Lila smiled.

  Oh, yes. He liked that, craved more.

  She started to suck, her body taking up a rocking motion that gave him a flash of fresh air as she pushed forward and her mouth covered half his cock, before smothering him as she rocked back, her lips retreating to circle the plump, sloping head.

  His chin rubbed hard against the shaft of her clit, turning her wild. Contractions ran through her pussy, their insistent, grasping rhythm forecasting a shower of her cum when she climaxed.

  His tongue strained to penetrate her slick hole, the rapid bobbing of his face pleasuring clit and cunt. She bobbed with him, slurping the length of his cock until the ache in her pussy forced her to bear down on the sharp point of his chin, her interior squeezing and grinding to wet his face with her clear, syrupy juices.

  A small, pre-orgasmic scream left her. She surged up, his cock lodging in her throat. She swallowed, taking more of him, her lips mashing where his cock met his balls.

  Groaning, Warren bowed his body, his hips and face pushing up and up, voluntarily smothering himself deeper within her flesh, his licks and chin thrusts along her pussy devouring the last of her self-control.

  Lila lifted, body trembling at her approaching climax. Down she crashed, more of his cock in her throat, her top lip half covering his testicles. Breathing through her nose, she swallowed, squirmed, swallowed some more, her moans vibrating around his shaft as his tongue lapped at her pussy, the hard jut of his chin driving her relentlessly toward oblivion.

  She started to quake, nipples, cunt and clit aching with pleasure. Her stomach tightened, the tension low in her gut making her entire body shake. Warren's strong arms strained to circle her hips and keep her pinned in place. His muscles running on half the oxygen they needed, she knew she could break his hold if she wanted to.

  She didn't want to. It felt good. She felt good -- sexier than she had ever experienced. One of the most powerful men in the country filled her mouth, would soon be releasing his seed into her stomach. Her thick labia smothered his face, her cream filling his nostrils to further suffocate him, yet he continued to eat her in return.

  So good, so fucking good...

  She quaked harder, feeling the upward pull of his cock against the roof of her mouth. He was on the verge of coming. She pushed her hips down, grinding against his face, her clit jerking just as he released his first jet of cum down her throat.

  Lila roared around the invasion of cock and cum, her flesh burning with exertion and a tingling pleasure. She slammed forward again, her thighs a vise that trapped his head, squeezing tighter as she swallowed another jet of cum.

  Her hips bucked, her own fluid squirting from her. Warren gargled it down before the next gush filled his mouth.

  Gentling, she shifted half her weight onto her arms as her throat and mouth retreated from his cock. Her hips lifted, letting Warren breathe. She counted the rises in his chest, lowering her hips after the third one.

  He nuzzled her pussy as she licked his cock clean.

  Damn. The nuzzling was good, too.

  Sweeter than she expected.

  More tender than she could afford.

  Trembling, she rolled from him. Grabbing the panties, she rubbed them between her labia, drenching the porous lace. Standing, she scooped up her clothes and shoes. Letting the panties fall wet against his chest, she stepped over him and walked toward the door.

  "Keep them, Gates. They're the last you'll have of me," she called over her shoulder, wishing she had a cardboard box to put the underwear in. "You're fired!"

  ********************

  Warren Gates stared through the woman sitting in his visitor's chair. He stared past the lumpy gray matter of her brain and the fog of her words in search of something more substantial .

  Someone more substantial.

  "This will significantly reduce labor costs at the end of the quarter." The woman paused, her hand self-consciously pushing at the c
areful architecture of her updo before she continued. "It also will eliminate the state mandated sixty-day notice."

  His brain clicked back into gear, his gaze sweeping down the part of her body visible from where he sat. Every magazine and movie since he hit puberty told him that the woman in front of him should make his dick hard. Manicured eyebrows, the arch expertly placed, blue contacts, platinum blonde hair, lip fat injections, narrow hips and waist, a body so thin she could be on a cat walk -- she met every contemporary criteria for beauty.

  He glanced down at his lap, confirming what he already knew. He was flaccid. He returned his gaze to hers, wondering, if he stared at the blue-tinted lenses long enough, whether he would be able to channel Lila. Could he grow hard enough, long enough, to unzip his pants and have the blonde go down on him, her facsimile of fellatio taking a third or half his length.

  She had offered as much before. More than once.

  "So, with your permission," she continued. "We will proceed with the first stage of the terminations."

  He shook his head. Her lips parted, the white of her evenly capped teeth sparkling at him. He shook his head again and leaned forward. "Your company's consulting engagement is over."

  He pressed the intercom button for his secretary. "Amy, make sure SourceTech's server access is terminated immediately and have security escort Miss Henton off the premises."

  The blonde glared at him, but kept quiet. She knew the drill. She would return to her company's home office, call in a senior partner, and offer the man a post-mortem on what might have gone wrong. Warren and several other executives in his company would receive all-expenses paid invitations to some resort in the Caymans to reconsider the terminated contract.

  Well, fuck SourceTech and fuck Miss Henton. The offshore work came back at a quality that was losing his company customers, and the data collection programs had crashed more than a dozen times in the last six months. Orders had been lost but charged and payments had been deducted from the buyer's bank account as many as half a dozen times on a single transaction.

  He could no longer afford the savings SourceTech had promised.

 

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