Sugar Daddies

by Jade West

  He pushed and grabbed at my hips and levered himself inside me as I tensed.

  Oh my God, it was big. Oh my God, it was sore and tight and sharp. Oh my God, it felt so fucking good when he pushed all the way in.

  I knew I loved anal. I fucking loved the way it felt.

  I closed my eyes, sucked on Carl.

  Squeaked again as Rick pulled out for another thrust.

  “Your ass feels fucking divine,” he hissed. “Oh sweet fucking Christ.”

  Carl’s dick twitched in my mouth. “Fuck her,” he said. “Fuck her, Rick, loosen that tight little hole.” His hands reached under me, slipped under my tits to pinch at my nipples.

  He pushed into my throat until I retched.

  “Good girl,” he rasped. “Suck me.”

  I did suck. Sucked and moaned and writhed a little as Rick took my ass.

  It hurt, and then it didn’t. It hurt until it didn’t hurt at all.

  I spread my legs wider, pushed back at him, and he liked that.

  “Fuck,” he laughed. “Fuck, Carl, look at our sweet little Katie. She’s fucking loving it in the ass.”

  “Something you’ve both got in common,” he said, and his words made my clit tingle.

  He pulled out of my mouth and I panted. “Harder,” I said. “Fuck me hard, Rick.”

  “My fucking pleasure,” he groaned and slammed in all the way.

  Carl stepped aside, and then he left us. My heart dropped to see him walk away, but Rick just picked up pace. He pressed his hand to the back of my neck, held me firm. “Fuck me with your asshole,” he hissed. “Work it.”

  I wriggled my hips, bucked back at him, cried out as his fingers wrapped under my thigh to strum at my clit.

  And then Carl came back, with one of those floor standing mirrors. He positioned it in front of me, checking out the view from my angle.

  I saw Rick’s face, saw his smile, the lust there. It set me on fucking fire.

  I met his eyes and I begged him for more, begged him for harder, begged him to fuck my fucking ass, and I didn’t care how dirty it felt, I wanted it all.

  My eyes widened as Carl appeared behind the both of us. I caught sight of him in the mirror and so did Rick, and Rick jolted in shock as Carl pushed him forwards.

  Rick’s weight pushed down on me, and it felt good. His chest pressed against my back, and he moved from his hips, circling and grinding while I groaned under him. I watched Carl’s eyes as he tugged at Rick’s jeans. I felt them come down, the denim rough against my bare thighs.

  “Fuck,” Rick hissed, right in my ear.

  Carl picked up the olive oil, and he dribbled it from high. Rick kept fucking, kept pumping me, but he was groaning.

  “Yes,” he grunted. “Fuck me, Carl. Fuck my ass.”

  I saw Carl’s arm pistoning, and Rick cried out, his body tense against my back, and he went still, his cock deep in my ass, and Christ it was heaven.

  Carl shifted position, tipping his head back as he pressed up against Rick, and I felt the extra weight, the extra pressure.

  It felt amazing. It felt dirty and delicious to be pinned so tightly under two.

  Rick cried out as Carl pushed inside, and I felt it, I felt his pain. His mouth was hot against my neck, his breath ragged. He clenched his teeth for the second push, and I felt that one, too.

  And then Carl fucked Rick, hard and deep as he grunted and groaned. Hard and deep as his balls slapped against Rick’s underneath him, and Rick’s balls slapped against me. I could hear it all.

  Carl fucked Rick and Rick fucked me, and the image in the mirror was amazing.

  And we all groaned and grunted and bucked and writhed and breathed in jagged breaths.

  My God, it was everything.

  Carl took Rick’s hair in one hand and mine in the other, and he met our eyes in the mirror.

  He smiled a dirty smile, and Rick smiled one too, and I laughed, delirious, gritting my teeth and then begging for more.

  Rick gave me more. He fucked himself hard on Carl’s dick as he fucked me, and his cock tightened, started twitching. I felt the strain in his breath.

  “Gonna come,” he said. “I’m gonna come, Carl.”

  Carl grunted.

  “Fuck, Carl, I’m gonna fucking come!”

  Carl’s hips slapped harder, faster. He closed his eyes.

  “Come,” he groaned. “Now…”

  And I felt them, I felt them both. Spasming and thrusting and losing their fucking mind. Carl emptied his balls into Rick as Rick emptied his into me, and it was beautiful.

  It was so fucking beautiful.

  A pile of heaving, hot bodies, and I was sweating and breathless, pinned to hard marble, but I never wanted them to move.

  I didn’t want to be released.

  Not now, not in six months.

  Not ever.

  “Relax,” I said. I reached over to the passenger seat and angled Katie’s back until her shoulders were mine for the grasping. She was tense, her muscles knotty under her suit jacket. She hunched as I worked my fingers, and then she exhaled, loosened up a little. “It’s your first calling week. It takes time to find your feet.”

  “I just want to do well,” she said.

  Maybe that’s all it was. Maybe the niggle in my gut was wrong, and Katie was just all in with the training programme. Maybe there was a tough little saleswoman deep inside Katie that craved the thrill of the chase and close, and this had nothing to do with pitting herself against her snotty sister.

  I got it. Hell, I fucking got it. Sales is a performance-based career, and the pressure builds and fills you up. I’d always been ambitious, consumed by the fire of topping the leaderboard, bringing in bigger deals, better deals, more impressive clients.

  But Katie seemed different these past few days. The carefree girl who’d rocked up at ours with that breezy countryside smile on her face wasn’t the one sitting in my car. This Katie was steely and resolute, consumed by the desire to win.

  She was changing before my eyes, sacrificing stable visits to listen through her call recordings and pick holes in her performance.

  I want to improve, she’d say. What’s the point in giving less than your all? What’s the point in not striving for the top of the pile?

  I got that, too.

  Still, despite the kinship, I couldn’t help feeling a sense of loss for her somehow, a tainting of innocence. I couldn’t shake the feeling that my training programme had stolen the sparkle of sunshine from her eyes and replaced it with grit and embers.

  Katie wasn’t the only one affected. The atmosphere in the training suite was tense enough to blow. Everyone had some measure of fire in their belly, everyone was chasing the win.

  Even Verity. Especially Verity.

  Whatever words David had shared with his little princess had done the job. She’d been quiet and compliant in the aftermath, her eye on the ball. Grit and embers, another one.

  I’m all for healthy competition, but this felt deeper, verging on the unpleasant.

  “Today’s the day,” Katie said. “I want a tick by my name on that leaderboard. Katie Serena Smith, ten points, top of the class.”

  “And Verity none? Am I right?”

  She shrugged. “Why should I care what Verity does?”

  I didn’t need to see her face to know she did care. “Forget about the tick on the leaderboard,” I said. “Just focus on the person at the end of the line. Ask the right questions, have a conversation. That’s all you need to do.”

  She nodded. “Sure thing, boss.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  I gave her shoulders a final squeeze and she opened the car door, flashed me a smile.

  “Today’s the day,” she said again. “I can feel it.”

  It turned out it was Ryan, my early bet, who put the first tick up on the leaderboard. He made a cracking call mid-morning, the right pitch at the right time to a frustrated tech director looking for greater business insight. His face was a picture
, pure bliss as he took the winner’s walk up to the whiteboard and made that tick next to his name. I was pleased for him. A young kid at home, his first real shot at a career above minimum wage. I shook his hand and gave him a pat on the back, and the lad looked like he could cry.

  It’s a strange phenomenon that things really kick off once that first tick is made. His was followed by another, a sharp girl called Leanna, a smaller opportunity, but a good one, and then another, a long-term opportunity with a logistics company up north, discovered by our eldest trainee, Nick, who’d been working in tech support since he left school.

  Katie was quiet as we ate our bagels. I could feel the cogs whirring, the tightness of panic twisting in her belly.

  “Don’t let it eat at you,” I said. “It’s far too early to judge anything.”

  She stared at her plate. “I just wanted it to be me.”

  “It will be you, anytime now.”

  But she didn’t look convinced.

  She let out a sigh as we pulled up outside the office.

  “What if I can’t do this? This isn’t insurance, Carl. This is hard. Complicated.”

  “That’s where you’re falling down,” I said. “You’re expecting it to be hard. You’re picking up the phone with fear. Maybe a little desperation.”

  “What can I do?” Her eyes were piercing and beautiful. They hit me right in the chest. “What would you do?”

  “I’d breathe. Find my zone. Make sure I was in the right headspace before that call connected. And then I’d have a conversation and see where it went.” I smiled. “No pressure, Katie. The pressure is all in your head.”

  I unclipped my seatbelt, but she put her hand on my arm. I stilled, watching her as she reached for the dash controls.

  “Don’t laugh,” she said, and there was a blush on her cheeks.

  I smiled as I realised what she was doing. “I’d never laugh,” I said. “Never.”

  She took a breath and closed her eyes as the opening bars sounded. “Will you do it with me?”

  “Always,” I said, and I took her hand.

  We sang the Rocky theme in the car park until she was giggling too hard to get the words out, until her tension was gone and her eyes were bright and her breath was ragged but free.

  And then my blue-eyed girl nailed it. She found her groove, delivered the right call at the right time, and got her tick on the leaderboard just five calls in after lunch.

  I couldn’t have been more proud.

  Half of the trainees had a tick on the board by Friday afternoon, and those that hadn’t were getting close. Verity was one of those getting close, but there was still an empty white space next to her name.

  Conversations were getting slicker, more skilled. The atmosphere was buzzing as everyone pushed for that final result before end of play, and Katie was on fire, animated and smooth-talking with one eye on the clock.

  I thought we had a winner for the week when Ryan ticked his second lead up on the board, but I was ahead of myself. I was sitting at his desk to transfer his lead details when Katie’s call connected with the CTO of a big Welsh agricultural supplier. I heard the whole thing play out, from her faultless introduction, to the merry dance of questioning and rapport building, and finally through to the close.

  I watched the excitement sparkle in her eyes, the bright smile of someone who knows they’re onto a winner.

  It thrilled me.

  Intoxicated me.

  Made my heart thump in my chest.

  “I did it!” she said as she disconnected. “He wants a meeting! They have budget allocated and everything!”

  She shot like a rocket to make that second tick, the one that put her in joint first position and marked her as a real contender. Ryan took it well, congratulating her with genuine pleasure at her success. It made me like him even more.

  Katie could hardly contain herself as I got to my feet, she did a little jump on the spot and her hands were gripped in victory fists. I took a step towards her to shake her hand, but she bypassed that completely, forgetting our surroundings long enough to throw her arms around my neck.

  “I did it!” A breathy giggle right in my ear.

  I put my hands on her waist to guide her back to a professional distance, and she looked around at the other callers, her eyes wide as she registered her over familiarity. But it didn’t matter, because nobody was looking at us.

  They were too busy looking at David Faverley.

  He stood at the front of the training suite, flanked by two senior members of Human Resources, his eyes roving the whiteboard and soaking in the scores.

  A hush descended as he prepared to address the group, the chatter of calls easing off as people wrapped up their conversations and took off their headsets. Big boss man had an aura about him, he was dressed in navy with a dark maroon tie, and his silver hair was slick and styled. He nodded his approval as he totted up the totals, realising, as I had long since done, that our team was on track to be a solid performer.

  And so was our sweet little Katie.

  I pulled her to my side, be damned with professional distance, and her body had become tense, her excitement drying up to nothing.

  “Good afternoon,” David said to the room. “My apologies I haven’t been around sooner, but I assure you I’ve been hearing a great deal about your progress from Carl. I hope you’ve enjoyed your first few weeks with us, we know the learning curve is intense, and the adjustment is hard, but I promise the effort will pay off.”

  He did the usual introductions, a bit of a company overview, a talk about opportunities post the training programme and a motivational speech about how proud he was of the work everyone was putting in. He was well-practised, his eyes moving steadily across the desks, making eye contact to convey his sincerity, but I knew him too well. Well enough to realise that he was fighting the compulsion to stare in our direction, stare at Katie, at his little star performer.

  I was glad he fought it, because Katie’s eyes were narrow, her lips tight, her gaze anywhere but on him. I brushed her fingers with mine, hooked them gently and pulled her hand behind my back out of view where I could hold it properly. I squeezed and she squeezed, pressing that little bit tighter to my side.

  It felt so wrong to hide the way I felt from her father, even in the heart of my corporate surroundings. I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arm around her waist and hold her, encourage her to broach the distance and speak with him. I’d hold her hand and I’d tell him how wonderful she was, how hard she was working, how great she was doing. How proud I was, how proud he should be.

  How she’d wrapped her dainty little fingers around my heart and stolen it. Rick’s too.

  I wanted to say all those things, but when David pulled a handful of golden envelopes from his pocket and called the first of the star performers up to claim one, I said nothing, did nothing.

  Katie pulled her hand from mine when she realised the inevitable, and I expected her to bail before he called her name, turn tail and disappear to sleight him, leaving him standing with a golden envelope in his hand and egg on his face. She didn’t. She stood still, stern-faced and tense, but rooted to the spot.

  I started up an applause when Ryan’s name was called, and his smile lit up the room as he collected his envelope. David shook his hand, congratulated him on an exceptional result, two sterling leads in the first stage of training was impressive, he said, very well done indeed, he said.

  And then he turned his attention to Katie with one remaining envelope in his hand.

  His smile was bright, and his eyes were warm and proud. It pained me somewhere deep to see the chasm of disconnection between father and daughter.

  “Katie,” he said, and he beckoned her. “Please, come and get your prize.”

  There was so much emphasis on the please, a quiet desperation, the tone of a man eager to bridge a divide and make it right. Katie didn’t move, and my heart was in my throat, my hand on her back to encourage her forward. She resisted, bu
t only for a moment, taking slow steps in her fancy heels, looking mature and professional in her suit as she made her way to him.

  Her smile was stilted and her hand was tense and awkward as she shook his. I saw the flash of emotion across his face as she dropped her eyes to the floor.

  My heart broke a little for him, and it broke for her, too. For the love waiting right there for her, imperfect love from a man who meant it, a man who’d made his mistakes and lived to regret them, a man who was good and kind in the heart of him, a man who wanted to be there.

  A man who’d tried to be there, and failed.

  I thought he would admit defeat and let her go with nothing more than an awkward handshake, but I should have known better than that. He handed her the envelope, and took advantage of the moment. My breath choked as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her to him, even though she was stiff as a board. The applause erupted, but his words carried, just loud enough to hear.

  I’m so proud of you, he said. I’m so very proud.

  And then he let her go.

  She dithered for a moment, clutching that envelope in her fingers, a flicker of emotion on her face before her guard came back up. She nodded and thanked him, and then she backed away, retreating to her desk to a fanfare of congratulations from her colleagues.

  David made his exit with a final thanks, and I took the floor, reiterating everything he’d said about their hard work and how impressed I’d been with their attitude and dedication over a tough start to the programme.

  I sought out every pair of eyes, every eager smile, thanking all of them personally and individually, finding something worthwhile to say for every one of them.

  Until I came to Verity’s empty chair.

  I scanned the desks, back and forth, trying to locate her amongst the others, but she was nowhere to be seen.

  I set everyone the task of grabbing a coffee and an informal discussion amongst themselves before the week wound up early, and I headed out to the kitchen, and further to the toilets. Still there was no sign of her. Her bag was still in the footwell of her desk, her scarf still draped over her chair, and a glance through the front window showed her sporty little Audi still in her parking space.