NoEasyWayOut

by Tara Tennyson

  “Mmmh, tight. Very tight.” He watched her face as he thrust in and out hard and fast. She gasped, catching her breath and not knowing if she wanted to push against him, driving his fingers deeper into her or pull away. “Keep your mouth open,” he said. She rested her head back against the seat and opened her mouth, half closing her eyes.

  “Everything open.” He used his other hand to pull her knees even wider apart. “I want you all open to me. That’s better. I like the way you look. Very sexy, very sexy indeed.”

  He held his fingers inside her, twisting them, flexing his fingers apart, stretching her inside, making her moan again. Then he brought his thumb onto her throbbing clitoris and started to stroke over it gently. “Do you like this, Ruthanne?”

  She nodded, not meeting his eyes, pushing against him and wanting him to touch her harder, to press into her, to make her come.

  But he just kept stoking gently. “You are so wet.” He twisted his fingers again then returned to the gentle insistent stroking of her clit.

  She moaned and tried to push harder against his hand.

  “Naughty. All in good time.” Then he pulled his hand away from her and thrust the two fingers into her mouth.

  She gagged and pulled away, trying to get them out of her mouth but he held her head with his other hand. “Suck them, Suck my fingers. Taste yourself.”

  He was gripping her face tightly, almost painfully—forcing her to take his fingers, dripping wet with her juices, into her mouth. “Play nicely. Or we won’t play at all.” His voice was light and teasing but with a hint of threat as if she didn’t do this that would be the end not just of the moment but of their whole relationship.

  Maybe I’m just being uptight. Maybe this is the kind of thing Daniel’s type—rich, successful, privileged women—do all the time. She relaxed her jaw obediently and licked at his fingers, tasting herself rich and sweet, the taste filling her mouth. There was something about giving into him, about doing what he wanted, that she was enjoying.

  “That’s better.” He pushed his fingers in and out of her mouth. “And now you get your reward.”

  His other hand was between her legs again and this time he went straight for her clit, seeking it out with his fingers and thumb, pinching at it and stroking it. She moaned over the fingers still filling her mouth and pushed her hips forward, opening her legs even wider. He pulled at her clit, tugging it and its little hood gently away from her body, then pushing it back and grinding it against her.

  She felt so aroused, so ready to come.

  Then he put the pads of his three fingers flat on her clit and rubbed firmly and insistently over it. “Do you want to come?”

  “Yes” she said thickly, his fingers still filling her mouth.

  “Where are your manners? Say please or I might stop.”

  She didn’t want him to stop. His hand was moving rapidly now, rubbing from side to side over her wet clit. She was so close. She knew she was going to come soon.

  “Please.” Her body was already tensing up, the orgasm building,

  “What did you say?” His voice was calm.

  “Please, please.” And then she was coming, grinding her hips against his hand, crying out, her back arching against the seat, almost gagging on the fingers still in her mouth as the orgasm tore through her. She bucked up against his hand, pushing it harder and harder against her with each wave, again and again.

  She sank back against the seat and breathed again.

  He took away his hands, pulling some wet wipes out of the glove box and fastidiously cleaned his hands.

  “You are a dirty girl. You loved it, didn’t you?”

  She nodded, too spent to say anything.

  “Good. I think we’re going to have fun together. Now get out and go home. Sweet dreams.”

  She felt dismissed. “Don’t you…” She hesitated, wanting to ask if he wanted pleasuring.

  He smiled. “No. I’ve had quite enough fun for one night. You can owe me one.” He got out of the car and came around to her side and opened the door.

  She hastily pulled her dress down to cover her nakedness and got unsteadily to her feet, still shaky from her orgasm.

  He helped her out of the car. “Thank you for a wonderful evening.” He leaned forward and delicately kissed her forehead. “Go on, then. Off you go.” He waited while she went up the stairs and into her apartment block, then she heard his car door close and the car start and drive away.

  She remembered she had undressed and fallen into bed, feeling satisfied in one way but let down in another, like he had used her somehow even though she was one who had taken the pleasure. Somehow it all felt wrong.

  Chapter Five

  It was almost a week before she saw or heard from him again. She’d spent the week swinging between shame and desire—shame at the way she’d let him touch her, shame at the way he’d made her taste herself and more than anything shame at the way she’d come so forcefully at the stroke of his hands.

  But then every time she thought about that night she felt a tingle of pleasure too. It wasn’t just the way he had touched her with such certainty and such skill but the way he had seemed to control her.

  Giving in to him had made it more exciting. She hadn’t known what he would do next. It felt like his desires were overwhelming and she was the only one who could satisfy them and for some reason that felt exciting and as though she were powerful even when she seemed most powerless.

  A week later he’d come into the office demanding to see her, insisting that she clear all her other meetings—which of course she did, given that as a client he was worth more than all her others put together.

  She felt nervous seeing him again. What did he think of her, now that he’d touched her like that? Were they still dating? Did he still want her?

  He sat down in the big chair opposite her desk and said coolly, “You owe me one.”

  She’d stared at him blankly.

  “Don’t say you’ve forgotten.” He sighed. “Just how many men’s fingers have been inside you since last week?”

  She said nothing, a blush creeping slowly up her neck.

  “Surely you don’t let every man you date do that to you?” He raised his hand, two fingers extended and kissed them and blew her the kiss.

  She shook her head. “Of course not.” She frowned at him, feeling angry.

  “So. If you remember, you owe me one. And I’m here to collect.”

  “What do you mean?” She smiled nervously.

  “What I mean is,” he spelled it out as though she were was being rather slow, “I want you to come over here right now, kneel down in front of me, unzip my trousers, take out my cock and suck it until I come in your mouth. Then I want you to swallow my come and say ‘thank you very much, Daniel, please come again.’”

  “No,” she said instantly. “Not here. That’s disgusting.”

  “Is it? Is it any different to what I did for you? I didn’t hear you complaining. Moaning yes, complaining no.” He laughed softly.

  She shook her head. “This is my office. And that was a date.”

  “Oh so that makes a difference does it? You’re so conventional,” he sighed. “So dull. I thought more of you.”

  “I’m not conventional. I just meant it feels different.” She tried to stop that look of disappointment on his face. “And you surprised me.”

  “Then get used to the idea.”

  “But it’s my office. What if someone comes in?”

  He stood and strode to the door.

  Her heart sank. He was leaving—her best client, the closest thing she had to a boyfriend, the man who took her places she had never been before.

  He called out to the rest of the office in his commanding tones. “I’m having a meeting with my PR team and I am not under any circumstances to be disturbed. Is that understood?”

  There was a shocked silence in the big room as everyone stopped what they were doing, then came a murmur of yesses. What Daniel wanted D
aniel got.

  He slammed the door shut behind him. “Happy now? So what’s stopping you now?”

  “I don’t know. Nothing.” It was true, no one would come in. And it wasn’t as if she’d never gone down on a man. And she was dating him so what could be wrong?

  “Then come over here and kneel down before I change my mind and go elsewhere.” He was smiling at her. “I want you, Ruthanne. And I can’t wait.”

  That made it better, made it more like a date and an act of passion but it still felt wrong as she went over to him and knelt down in front of him. Wrong but exciting at the same time. She looked up at him. Was she really going to do it? Now? In her office? In the middle of the day? To someone who had just marched in and demanded it?

  He was taking control of her again and something in her liked it, found that arousing and impossible to deny.

  She reached up and slowly unzipped his expensive trousers. She heard the sound of the heavy silk lining of his trousers against the lighter silk of his boxer shorts and was impressed again despite herself.

  “Good girl, Ruthanne.” His voice was soft now, gentle even. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down. I knew you were the right choice.”

  He was already erect and she maneuvered him out of the gap in his shorts and held his stiff rod. She couldn’t believe she was going to do it here and now. This was not how her relationships normally went and she wasn’t that kind of person. But perhaps she was now. Perhaps she was a risk-taker, adventurous, up for anything?

  “Suck me, Ruthanne. Take me in your mouth.”

  She felt demeaned but strangely excited by the way he was treating her, using her almost as if she had no will, no control anymore. She leaned forward and licked the end of his penis, tasting its fresh saltiness. She squeezed it with her hand as she lapped at the head, wetting it and flicking her tongue at him.

  “I knew you wouldn’t let me down, Ruthanne. I knew you wanted to do it.” He put his hands on her head, tangling his fingers into her hair and pulled her head forward so two, three inches slipped into her mouth. She sucked on it and moved her head back and forward slowly. “Look at me while you’re sucking my cock.”

  She raised her eyes and saw him smiling down at her, a look of desire and triumph on his face. “That’s good. This suits you. We should do this more often.”

  She pumped his dick in and out of her mouth, sucking at it, sometimes licking with her tongue, lashing at it. She felt a wetness between her legs, knowing she was doing something bad, something she shouldn’t do and liking that feeling.

  “You are a great cocksucker,” Daniel said. She felt happy that he was pleased with her even though he said it in an unpleasant way.

  She sucked harder, knowing from his voice that he was getting nearer. His hands gripped her hair more tightly and painfully. She tried to move her head back but he pulled it pulled it farther into his lap, forcing another inch into her mouth, almost making her gag.

  She moved her head as much as she could, pulling away each time as he forced her back, pushing it in too deep. Then he was holding her head and thrusting into her mouth and she was gagging and choking. He came, a thick spurt of hot semen filling her mouth and making her choke even more. She wrenched her head away and he stared at her.

  “Have you got a mouth full of my spunk?” he said, his voice not as controlled as usual.

  She nodded.

  “Open wide. Show me. “

  She opened her mouth and he looked inside.

  “A mouthful,” he said with satisfaction. “I like that. I want to do that more often with you. It suits you. On your knees with a mouth full of come.” He was back to himself now, his voice teasing, light but cruel too. “Now swallow it. And say thank you.”

  It took an effort of will to swallow. She wanted nothing more than to spit it all out and rinse out her moth. But he was watching and waiting so she made herself swallow it down.

  “And now say thank you. Say ‘thank you for coming in my mouth, Daniel.’”

  She laughed and shook her head. She couldn’t say that.

  “Say it. Or I won’t do it again. Not with you anyway.”

  She felt the rush of panic and the words tumbled out of her mouth before she could think about it. She blushed as she spoke. It was one thing to do it. It was another to say those words.

  “Good girl. Now stand up and let’s see how you really felt about all that.”

  She thought he was going to kiss her or hold her but he stayed seated as she stood in front of him. He put his hand up her skirt. He moved her panties to one side, his fingers cool against her.

  “Open your legs,” he said and she did so, standing with her legs apart for him.

  He stroked her gently, parting her lips, slipping his fingers between them then inside her. “Wet. Dripping wet. I knew it. You loved it.”

  And she was aroused. She didn’t know why. There was something about being under his control, about being treated like a sex object that got her wet—wetter than she’d ever been before.

  “Look. I wouldn’t normally do this but seeing as it’s you…” His voice trailed off as he started touching her insistently, his fingers slipping in and out of her hard and then his fingers finding her clit and rubbing it.

  She felt a rush of blood and pushed into his hand, wanting him to touch her.

  “Do you want me to make you come?”

  She stood there and nodded.

  “Say it then. And say please.”

  “Please make me come.” Just saying the words made her feel more aroused.

  He rubbed harder, his thumb on her clit, two, three fingers inside her now.

  “You want me to don’t you?” he asked again. “You need me to do this.”

  “Yes. Please.” She leaned forward, her hands grabbing the back of the chair.

  “You make me want to do things to you. Bad things, because however much you complain.” He thrust three fingers deep inside her, making her stagger and groan in pain. “However much you complain, I know you love it.”

  He rubbed her clitoris again with his thumb, harder and faster, until she knew what was going to happen and she couldn’t stop. She started to come with three fingers pulling her painfully open and his thumb on her clit.

  “Are you coming?”

  “Yes, yes.” She pushed against his hand, needing him to keep rubbing, to keep touching her.

  “Do you like the things I do to you?”

  “Yes, yes,” she said again, focusing on his hand, on his fingers stretching her, on his thumb moving so hard and so fast across her clit. Then she bucked against him, out of control as the orgasm took her.

  She pushed against his hand, needing him to keep touching her, to keep rubbing her clit, trying not to cry out, trying not to let her body rock and buck. But the pleasure was impossible, too much. She heard her own voice moaning and felt her body moving and writhing against his hand as she came. She pushed harder against him, losing herself in the throes of her orgasm as he kept rubbing her harder and harder.

  “You see,” he said, watching her catch her breath. “You love it. Don’t you?”

  The sensations eased away and his thumb was still, resting lightly on her tender clit. His fingers were still inside her and he gave them another thrust as he spoke.

  “You love it. Don’t you?”

  She nodded, unable to speak.

  “I’d like to put something really big inside you.” He flexed his fingers and stretched her.

  She lowered her head, moaning softly, needing to sit down.

  Then he withdrew his fingers. “So,” he said, as if this were a meeting he was drawing to a conclusion. “We have established that you give great head, that you are willing to put up with almost anything to satisfy your desires and that when you say no you usually mean yes. I’m glad we’ve got that cleared up. And now I really must be going.”

  He stood and zipped himself up, leaving her standing there with her skirt pushed up and her panties to one side, tan
gled in her wetness.

  He leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. “It’s been lovely. I must go. Don’t clean your teeth yet either. I want to know I’m still in there, all day, all evening.” He smiled.

  She nodded, still dazed from the power of her orgasm.

  “Saturday night happens to be a little bit special,” he said. “I don’t suppose you’d be free for dinner?”

  It was Valentine’s night and of course she had nothing planned, no date lined up—just the thought of a box of chocolates in front of the TV, hiding away when everyone else was on a romantic date.

  She nodded.

  “Good. I’ll pick you at eight.” He smiled at her, then his face changed. “You need to pull yourself together.” He looked at her disheveled clothes as if their state was her fault, not his. “You don’t want your colleagues to know what a little slut you are.”

  And with that he left.

  She stumbled to her desk and sat down, still reeling from her orgasm but now angry too. She wasn’t going to see him again, Valentine’s night or no Valentine’s night. He seemed to assume that she’d want to see him again and that she’d drop any other plans to make herself available.

  Well, she wouldn’t. She’d rather stay at home by herself than go out with someone who called her a slut—especially a man who asked her to keep the taste and smell of his semen in her mouth all day and all evening as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

  She wriggled in her seat, still feeling sore after the way he had used her. Why had she been so wet when he touched her? Her brain knew she shouldn’t be doing what he asked. She knew she shouldn’t be going down on him like that and she knew that what he was asking her do was wrong. So why had her body betrayed her? Why did it give her shiver of pleasure when he talked to her as though she were some kind of hooker? And why had she come so powerfully when she didn’t want to and when he was almost hurting her?

  She didn’t understand it. She didn’t want to even think about him again. She just wanted a nice long bath, to clean her teeth five times and to go to sleep.