by B. B. Roman
Roland broke the kiss and then released me from the restraints. Despite my sudden re-emergence of freedom, I stayed where I was. I had acclimated to that position by now and didn't want to go anywhere quite yet.
"Your lips are so soft, and full," he remarked. "I would love to feel them around my cock. Would you be up for that?"
I immediately panicked, realizing that I hadn't given a blowjob in a very long time. I had somehow resisted with my last boyfriend and never seemed to do a good enough job with the one before him. I was orally inexperienced—and Roland picked up on this immediately. My cheeks had turned just has red as my spanked-buttocks.
"Pet, it's okay. Just do your best. Taste me like you'd like to be tasted—and then I'll return the favor." He took off his shirt and revealed those lovely toned muscles again, smiling at me after his face re-emerged from beneath the cloth. I could already see his cock throbbing through his jeans. "I'm not giving it as an order, but I'd like it very much." Yes, I actually wanted it—it only took me a second to figure that out.
Once again reading my mind, he dropped his jeans, allowing his hardness to spring forth from beneath. It was so thick and erect, pointing toward me at an almost perfectly right angle from his body. He approached me and I bent down, immediately immersing his bulbous head in my eager lips.
"Oh yes, pet. That's just lovely," he muttered.
I circled my tongue around his tip, sucking and wrapping my lips around tightly and began to take that massive length into my mouth, almost gagging as it hit the back of my throat. He was big, all right. I did my best to keep him fully immersed in the dark, warm recesses of my mouth, allowing his tip to graze the roof of my mouth. His fingers gripped my head and he began to fuck my mouth, oh so gently rocking his hips. I did my best to keep up, trying to just imagine what I'd like done to my own clit. The thought-experiment seemed to be working based primarily on his consistent low moaning.
"You're doing so good, Marisa," he said.
I kept working, trying to bring him as much pleasure as I possibly could, using my hands to stroke up and down his shaft. Less than an hour ago, I was terrified; now I was enthusiastically sucking his cock.
He pulled away suddenly, apparently unnerved that he was losing control. "All right, I know you're ready for more." Roland reached down and pulled off my top, revealing a lacy black bra, the only barrier that remained before I was fully naked. He quickly removed that as well, tossing it to the side like it had just been a brief annoyance. "Such beautiful breasts," he said, his words full of relief, his eyes glowing with hunger.
His desire made me feel good—I had never had a man touch me and talk to me like that!—and I relaxed into his presence, allowing my body to press into his. I felt his lips against my nipples as he sucked, his every move making me hotter and hotter. He gently bit on that sensitive flesh, the pain again re-awakening my nerves, a wake-up call to my clit. My wanting just continued to grow and grow.
"Up," he said. He helped me onto the table and rolled me onto my back, again strapping my arms down. I struggled at first.
"Marisa, you mustn't struggle. You have to trust me," he said firmly.
"Why the restraints again?" I had finally gotten comfortable with my freedom. It was more like an instinctive response, however, because I think I really wanted him to tie me down. I think I wanted him to have his way with me, to take me, to consume me.
Next, he tied my legs down after spreading them wide-open. I realized in that moment that my feeling exposed earlier was completely unjustified compared to how I felt now. I whimpered but said nothing, concerned that he might punish me again. And even though I kind of liked the pain, I didn't think I was quite ready for more yet. I was spread-eagle in front of him, my pussy fully on display—and there was nothing I could do to stop him from doing absolutely anything he wanted to me.
"Ah, Marisa. Such a beautiful pussy as well. So ripe and wet." I was simultaneously embarrassed and thrilled, feeling his words racing through me like electricity. His words immediately hit the right places, causing that tension to coil up inside of me, building with every second. It was so refreshing to hear him talk about me like that, so raw and unfiltered. I wanted so badly to reach down and touch that growing ache away, a thought that probably only occurred to me because I was tied down. This loss of freedom was profoundly affecting my senses, toying with my comforts and my neutrality. Like the pain, it was sweetening the experience.
"Oh god," I moaned. His tongue eased into me, pressing against my delicate walls as it moved back and forth. His hot breath poured onto my clit, the warmth threatening to cook me alive as he fucked with his tongue. Moisture flooded out of me, ultimately consumed by his lapping tongue.
My hips rocked against his face as he continued, my movements controlled and small due to the restraints. His tongue eased out of me and began to flutter against my clit, immediately sending huge waves of pleasure through me. My body tensed and released, readjusting to the sudden change in intensity. Roland's movements were random, yet precise, slow, yet constant. He moved his tongue back and forth, trailing the tip against that throbbing bud expertly. I already felt a climax building inside of me, one that was big, yet still growing. Normally it wasn't that easy for me to reach orgasm with a man; I guess my former partners had just been inexperienced.
His fingers parted me and began to press against my g-spot, fucking me much harder than his tongue had. My muscles clenched around his fingers, giving their approval and letting him know that he was truly in control. I felt that excitement growing inside of me, excitement so huge that I feared I might burst if I held it inside of me much longer. I was building, building, building and then—he stopped.
Roland's breath continued on the inside of my thighs. He kissed them gently, moving along that soft, fatty flesh. My orgasm had been so close and he had just stopped. What was he doing?
"Sir?" I asked. "Why did you stop?"
I felt his lips curl into a smile against my leg. "Ah, pet. You're new to this, I forgot. You need to learn to truly want. Also, I'm in control of your pleasure, not you."
"But—"
"Shh. No more," he said, cutting me off. I felt his fingers moving lower than they had been before, low and back. I gasped as I felt him press against my asshole. "Relax, pet. It's really pleasurable, I assure you. Have you never had anything in your pink little asshole before? A virgin?"
"No...and yes, Sir," I said, doing my best to maintain my composure. Ugh, his touch was kind of uncomfortable, pressing against that tightness, trying to move inside against the resistance.
"Someday we'll have some real fun with this little hole of yours—but for now, we'll keep it simple." His tongue returned to my clit, circling and spiraling again, causing my legs to suddenly lift into the air and fight against the restraints. Similar to what I had felt during the spanking, the pressure in my asshole suddenly started to blend with the intensifying activity of his tongue, creating a pleasurable blend that threatened to consume me quickly.
The two flavors meshed perfectly, his fingers gently probing into me, his tongue spiraling side to side. The muscles clenched inside of my ass, so tight and sensitive, hugging his finger as the anticipation raged inside of me. My asshole wanted him to probe deeper, to rub against those sensitive rings of muscle, to be fully submerged inside me. He went slightly deeper and I tensed with surprise and approval.
The two sensations continued to build together, lifting me toward my orgasm. I could see it, feel it, taste it. His fingers and tongue worked together in perfect sync, a perfectly tuned machine that was exclusively for me. "Oh god," I moaned. "This is unbelievable." I was starting to lose it, starting to—
Again he stopped.
"Roland!" I whined. I could feel my climax ready to explode, like a word on the tip of my tongue that I just couldn't say. My body was begging for my fingers to finish the deed, to complete that beautiful cycle—but I was stuck. My chest was still heaving, almost as if it hadn't received the you're not a
ctually having an orgasm memo. He was teasing me, plain and simple. I felt like a rabbit jumping frantically at a dangling carrot—and I didn't do well with games.
He sat up and looked at me, giving me a great view of his chest as he straightened up his hair, obviously disheveled while between my legs. "You'll come when I tell you to, pet. The more you beg, the more I'm not going to let you have it. I'm in control, remember?"
Damnit! He really knew how to frustrate a gal. I was so close! "Yes, Sir," I said, defiance in my voice. I just wanted to finish. I wanted it worse than anything in the world, and honestly, if he told me he was about to answer all the questions I had, all the answers the world needed to know about his company, I'd probably say "It can wait."
"You'd best watch your tone of voice or you're going to get punished again," he said, the serious look on his face causing me to flush with submission. Despite my compromised state already, he had just made me feel even smaller. He noticed and leaned forward, stroking my hair and gently kissing my cheek. "You need not worry, pet. I promise I'll take care of you."
I had been so wrapped up in wanting my own orgasm that I didn't even notice his rock-hard erection, pulsing and upright between his legs, ready to pounce. Pre-cum glistened on the engorged head, slowly oozing out a drop at a time. He climbed on top of me, aligning his cock with my clit, rubbing it directly with the tip. I immediately shuddered, feeling the departed warmth flooding back into me. His fingers gripped the shaft tightly, guiding his movements. It moved along my wet slit, sliding through the moist folds of my labia, fucking against the glistening crease there. My pussy buzzed with excitement as heat spread from my core again.
"My pet," he said, smiling. "This is precisely what you've needed." His hardness slid into me as he said the words, his eyes watching my own as he filled me to the point of bursting. Again, he was studying the look on my face, watching my expression with intense curiosity as my muscles accommodated him down below. It was like he was trying to learn something about me through my body's response to him. Honestly, it shouldn't have been a surprise to me that a billionaire was so obsessed with details.
He kept my legs spread wide-open, rocking his hips into me, filling me with every thrust. His length disappeared inside, peeking out every time his gesture repeated. I stared up at the ceiling, catching his facial expressions after every few thrusts, watching the intent in his eyes as he had his way with me. His cock felt even thicker than it had the other day; my intense want was probably to blame for the skewed calculations.
I was powerless beneath him, my body inevitably fighting the restraints as I quivered and writhed in my limited fashion. The sounds and smells of sex filled the air, the excitement of the act more or less overwhelming all of my senses at once. I was having a hard time keeping track of everything every time he pumped into me, claiming me with his cock. His moans were quiet and controlled, allowing me to dominate the conversation with my own. The sounds were low and deep from my throat, desperately escaping to signal my ecstasy.
"Do you like to be fucked, pet?" he asked. His fingers played with my nipples, squeezing and caressing the soft flesh around them.
"Yes, Sir," I moaned. "I like your cock so much." His playful hands kept my breasts stable against my chest as he hammered into me again and again.
"Such a delicate, ripe pussy too. You're so beautiful, pet." Somehow his words were both incredibly serious and lighthearted at the same time, filling my body with a comfort like I'd never felt. Even though I was fully exposed in unflattering light, I'd never been more comfortable with my body—ever in my life. I felt like a woman, his prized catch, the object of his affection. I quickly realized that the more I relaxed, the more I felt my orgasm growing. Even with the restraints and the threat of him teasing me, I was feeling myself trust, letting go of my inhibitions.
"Please, pet. Come for me," he said. His words were a command, one that I wasn't certain I could fulfill given my limited capacity to control my own body—a fact he had exploited more than once today.
He sought to go even deeper inside of me, and in the midst of adjusting his angle, sent his fingers to my clit, pressing that button and bringing me back to life. I felt electricity rush through my body, surging, uninhibited. Every thrust became amplified as my mind began to overflow with sensation. I began to break down, finally realizing the orgasm that had escaped me multiple times now—and satisfying his command. It flooded through me, hardening my nipples, arching my back. I pressed backward into the table instead of forward, trying not to battle the straps as I cried out. My hair spilled all over the table, as I screamed out. My obedience was delightful.
"Yes, good pet!" The upward angle of his cock continued to press against my g-spot with every movement. He kept growing in intensity, his thrusts helping me in my ascent, pushing me to exactly where he wanted me to go. His fingers kept working me, manipulating that soft flesh. I was burning as fireworks exploded behind my eyes, nearly passing out during the peak.
Roland, satisfied with my progress, let himself go. He exploded inside of me, releasing spurt after spurt of his thick seed, fucking it into the deepest parts of me. I felt every contraction of his cock, knowing that with it came even more of his release. Each twitch was enough to keep my own climax in motion, causing little spikes of pleasure. His back arched and his muscles tightened as his thrusts slowed, holding his hardened length buried deep inside of me. I was glad he had finished inside of me this time.
"Mmm, that was so nice, Marisa. Did you like it?"
"Yes," I said between heavy breaths.
He leaned forward and gently kissed my lips. I kissed back, sending my tongue to explore every surface of his mouth. After our mouths slowed, he set me free. I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him tightly, seeking what I hadn't received the other day. He held me back and we stayed like that for a while.
"You didn't believe me, did you Marisa? You didn't believe that I could give you what you needed."
"I'm sorry," I said, realizing my mistake.
"I hope you're learning, my little sub," he said affectionately.
I wasn't totally sure if I liked being called a sub. Maybe I wanted to dominate him. Or not. I don't know if that was really a sensible idea. I still didn't really have any idea what I was doing.
"What do you want to ask me about?" he said. "Since you were so good, I'll give you the opportunity to ask me something. Really. Go ahead."
My mind was still cluttered with so many thoughts regarding our experience. I tried hard to summon a question, to summon anything worth asking at all. He was opening up for a second—and I needed to take advantage of it.
"Uh," I blurted out, "did you know about the illegal dumping before you resigned as CEO? The two events happened so close together, despite the fact that you were already resigned." I was proud of myself for coming up with such a question in my current, frail state.
"Ha," he laughed. "For some reason I assumed that would get brought up first." He shifted on the table, his arms remaining around me.
Way to go on the whole journalism ethics thing, Marisa.
"Marisa, have you ever dealt with a family fortune before? A huge fortune?"
"No," I said.
"Okay, well as your money increases, people come to you, trying to get a piece of the pie, no matter how large or small. Companies that you invest with always want more. People bring you opportunities all the time that you should take up. I never made any poor financial decisions, but I did make some poor social decisions."
He swallowed a lump in his throat, trying to move forward through his thoughts. "I okayed that decision, Marisa. I okayed it and then I found out what really was about to happen. Someone took advantage of me, and by that point, it couldn't be stopped. I think some people assumed I had a part in it, but I always denied it. It's never been easy for me to accept that decision that I made. You can't bring people back to life, even if you have all of the money in the world" Things suddenly became very sobering.
; "You okayed it?" I asked, flabbergasted.
"Yes. I did. I won't deny it to you."
I wanted to pull away at first, so shocked by what he was telling me—but I didn't. He was opening up to me, just as I had to him and that wouldn't have been fair. "Roland, I don't really know what to say."
"Shh, don't say anything else. I don't think I'm ready to say anything else right now. In fact, I think you should be on your way soon. I've got a lot of work to do. We'll meet again tomorrow." He undid my ankle restraints and with that, I was fully free again.
"Roland, thank you," I muttered, pleased that he had opened up at all.
"It's nothing, Marisa. You deserved it. Oh, and please, this information stays between us until the interview is over. Is that understood? If I find out you've broken this rule, there will be serious consequences."
"Y-y-yes," I said, realizing that it would be in my best interest to take him seriously. I was just going to have to jot it down and hope for the best.
We re-dressed ourselves and walked toward the door. I noticed a giant X-shaped thing with restraints, a large, mysterious object that I hadn't noticed when we came in. "What's that?" I asked, instantly becoming worried that my curiosity would get me into trouble.
"That's a St. Andrews cross," he said. "We'll use it tomorrow."
"Okay," I squeaked, still entirely clueless, but not wanting to ask.
He guided me up the seemingly endless stairs, dropping me off at my car. "See you tomorrow, Marisa," he said, leaning forward and gently kissing my cheek. I liked it.
"Okay, Roland. Thanks." I climbed into the car and watched him walk into the house. His posture seemed different, weaker. I guess his admission that he was responsible for an order that killed almost a thousand people over a span of five years was humbling. And rightfully so, but something about it made him all the more accessible, suddenly smaller than the larger-than-life caricature he had been when I first met him.