by Tia Siren
“Fuck,” the man groaned, and she looked at him with her big blue eyes, and he grinned down at her. She pulled away from him, holding his cock in her hand, jerking it slowly.
“How long have you wanted this?” she asked with a devilish grin.
“A long time,” David replied. “Don’t stop sucking my cock,” he added, and she laughed and then took him into her mouth once more. She bobbed her head, her lips and tongue and hand working together to drive him wild, but she was careful not to let him get past the point of no return. She was on her knees in front of him, naked save for the thong, which was soaked through in the crotch. She liked giving head, and she knew she was good at it, but she needed David’s cock in her tight pussy, and she would have it.
When she knew she had him riled up, she pulled back and stood up. She went to pull the thong down, but he stopped her, doing it himself and then placing his hands on her waist and spinning her away from him. With a guiding hand on her back, she bent, his other hand taking the opportunity to grab her ass. The hand on her back slid down, a finger trailing between her cheeks until it was on her wet slit, sliding down to rub sensually against her clit. She spread her legs and braced herself, one hand on the couch and one hand on the coffee table.
David took his cock in his hand and guided himself into her. Cherry moaned and closed her eyes. His hands went to her waist, his fingers almost touching. He held her still and fucked her senseless, pumping quickly in and out of her soaking pussy.
“I’m coming,” Cherry groaned, the blood rushing to her head since she was bent over, adding a strange pleasure to everything.
When she spoke, David pulled his cock out of her, and she was disappointed, but the man knelt down and pressed his face to her pussy, his tongue sliding into her body as he reached up to rub her clit with the pad of his index finger.
Her orgasm was the most intense she had ever felt. Her whole body shook; her stomach felt as though it was folding in on itself. She groaned aloud, and her juices flowed. When it was over she expected David to stand up, to slide into her again, but instead he sat down on the couch and pulled her over to him. She turned so she was facing him and straddled his lap, her knees on the couch on either side of him.
Cherry lowered herself slowly, bringing David’s cock into her pussy once more. This new position felt even better than the last, and she knew there was a chance she could come again. She bent and pressed her lips to his. His lips and chin were wet and shiny with her own juices, but she didn’t care. She tasted him, and she tasted herself.
She bucked on his lap quickly, pulling down so fast that their skin slapped together when they met. David’s hands were on her ass, kneading the flesh there, squeezing it and pulling it. When she stopped kissing him, he leaned forward, taking a nipple eagerly into his mouth.
She came again, throwing her head back as it suddenly overtook her. She soaked his cock, her juices leaking out and running down his member, soaking his wiry shock of pubic hair. It was all too much for him, and he was finally coming, his massive cock jumping inside her, spraying his load. He grunted, his hands on her hips, pulling her down and holding her still as he came. When it was over, she crawled off him and started to laugh.
He laughed too. “What’s so funny?” he asked.
“I don’t know why I was putting that off for so long,” Cherry said, unable to contain her giggles. The couch was soaked with sweat and cum, so David led her to the bedroom. They slept, entwined with one another, and she woke early in the morning, seeing just an edge of orange along the side of the closed blinds of the nearest window. She woke him up by taking his cock into her mouth.
4
The second time they had sex it was more like making love: slow and tender, kissing, him on top. Afterward, they showered together, and he surprised her by having yet more cum ready. She swallowed it, kneeling in front of him as the hot water splattered against the back of her head.
They had breakfast, which was prepared by David’s personal chef, while wearing fuzzy robes, and then he got dressed in his room. Cherry stood and watched him.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“I need to take care of this,” David said. “I won’t be long. Stay here and I’ll be back.”
Cherry thought of something that had happened that morning, in the dawn as they made love. It was his accent. He had always sounded American, but that morning, as he had moaned and said sweet nothings to her as he came inside her for the second time, he had sounded different.
“You’re Russian,” she said with a grin.
David laughed and nodded. “I am.”
“You don’t usually sound like it.”
“Not many people know I wasn’t born here. I thought it would be a weakness.”
“It was pretty hot,” Cherry said.
David laughed again. “I’ll remember that,” he said in his natural accent, the words heavy and slow with a Russian twang. Cherry grinned and clapped her hands together. Then she got serious. “Are you going to be okay?”
David laughed and stood. He had been sitting on the end of his bed, tying his shoes. He took her hands in his. “I’ll be fine. I’ll take care of Nathan; you can go back to your life.”
Cherry smiled and kissed him. “Thank you,” she said, and then he left.
Only a few hours later, she would know there wasn’t much of a chance of going back to her life. It had changed, and it would continue to.
Inside the apartment, two men were with her, along with the personal chef, who was preparing lunch already. The men were unknown to her, the day shift, guys she had never seen with David in the club. They were both young, one with a buzzed head and one with longer blond locks. Neither of them spoke to her. They just stood near the front door in expensive suits.
She felt awkward in David’s apartment without him, and she stayed in the bedroom most of the time. Lunch came, and David wasn’t yet back, so she sat at the table alone and was served a pasta dish with fresh-baked bread and a small bowl of butter. She declined wine, instead drinking water.
Just as she was finishing up, there was a knock on the door. She turned in her chair, able to see the front door from where she sat. The man with the long hair went to the door and opened it a crack.
“Yes?” he said, but instead of an answer, the door was shoved open and he stumbled back. He reached for his gun, but it was too late. There was a series of loud popping sounds, and fountains of crimson blood bloomed on the long-haired man’s chest. He fell back, dead before he even hit the ground.
The man who had shot him kept coming through the door, a handgun at the ready. Two more men followed him. The man with the shaved head had his gun out and was firing back. He took down the lead man, the one who had killed his friend.
“Come on!” a voice close to Cherry’s ear said. She turned to see the chef. The woman looked at her with wild eyes, wide with fear. Cherry nodded and got up, and they ran for the bedroom.
Cherry collapsed just inside the door, and the chef turned and slammed it shut, throwing the lock.
“There’s a panic room!” the chef said. She had a thick Russian accent, much like David had when he wasn’t pretending not to. She pointed with a bony finger toward the closet, and Cherry forced herself to her feet, her legs shaking and quivering like gelatin. She followed the chef to the closet, and they stepped inside.
The older woman shoved clothes off the rack and moved to the back wall of the closet. She pressed in a certain spot and a door swung inward. She went into the dark depths, and Cherry followed her. The chef shut the door and then lights popped on. The panic room was small, made of concrete and steel. The door locked audibly, and a computer screen in the wall glowed to life. The screen cycled through shots of the apartment. Cherry hadn’t even noticed cameras anywhere.
The view of the living room was distressing. The two guards David employed were both dead, along with the first man who had come through the door. The two other men were in David’s bedroom, l
ooking for the two women.
“They can’t get in here, can they?” Cherry asked when the shot moved on to the living room once more.
“No,” the chef said, shaking her head. The light was dim, but Cherry could see tears snaking down the older woman’s cheeks. Cherry was then surprised to realize she was crying too. Her heart was pounding. Nothing had ever scared her so badly. She wanted David.
The men found the panic room eventually, but they couldn’t get in. There was a small keyboard built into the wall in the room, and Cherry tapped buttons until she got the view of the bedroom to stick on the screen. They could just see the men, in the closet, hammering on the wall. Cherry was surprised she couldn’t hear it in the room. The walls really must have been thick.
Cherry screamed and slapped a hand over her mouth when one of the men was suddenly shot. David stepped into frame, flanked by three other men, each with guns drawn. The other bad guy turned, but David put him down as well. The chef reached past Cherry and opened the door.
David rushed forward and took Cherry into his arms. She was crying even more than she had been before. David held her.
“I’m so sorry,” he said.
Cherry couldn’t answer. She just cried.
5
David and Cherry were on his private plane, headed for a small island off the coast of Greece. David had many homes, but this was one no one knew about. Or at least, they shouldn’t.
It was the morning after he had gone to get things cleared up, and now they were practically in exile. He had underestimated Nathan. He had thought the man to be a small-time poser, but somehow the little shit had pulled many to his cause. He was making a play for it all: drugs, sex slaves, guns. He had his little fingers in every pie, and it had worked. David had gone from the top to the bottom. He had people loyal to him, of course, but Nathan had usurped almost all of the criminal power in Chicago. David didn’t know what he was going to do, but he knew he had to do something.
First, though, he had to get Cherry to safety. She had become a pawn in all of this. Nathan had made his move—it had worked—but he still wanted Cherry dead. Now it was to teach David a lesson, so he knew not to fuck with Nathan. David wouldn’t let that happen.
His manor on the small Greek island was large and airy, with open windows where the breeze made the curtains billow. They landed on the mainland and took a cab to the ferry, which took them to the home.
Cherry hadn’t been able to go to her apartment to grab any of her clothes, so David had called ahead and had the maid do some shopping. He showed Cherry to a bedroom, where all the clothes had been laid out. The poor woman was scared, but she indulged David and put on an impromptu fashion show. She had him sit on the end of the bed and then disappeared behind a privacy screen in the corner. Each time she came out in a different outfit, David oohed and aahed.
The last outfit was a bathing suit, a black bikini that left nothing to the imagination. Cherry smiled upon seeing David’s hard cock pressing against the fly of his shorts.
“Like what you see?” she asked, and David nodded. “Follow me then,” she said, and she turned and left the room, swinging her ass as she walked. David was on his feet and following her without needing to be told twice.
She went downstairs and then outside. There was a pool there, the water heated and clear, with a blue tint. She stepped into the pool and then went under. David paused by the edge and pulled his shirt, shorts, and underwear off before lowering himself into the water. He waded out to the center of the pool, where Cherry had gone under and still hadn’t surfaced.
He felt her hands on his hips, could see her nude form under the water just as the black bikini bobbed to the surface. She took him into her mouth, still under the water, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing his ass.
When she pulled away and surfaced, David grabbed her, lifting her up so he could kiss her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he angled his hips forward, his massive, rock-hard cock pushing into her tight pussy.
David held her, supporting her body as she rocked back and forth on his cock. He stepped forward, over to the edge of the pool so her back would be braced against it. She leaned back, her arms on the edge of the pool, and he leaned forward, taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking on it as it hardened against his tongue. Cherry laced her fingers through his hair, her hips bucking against his pelvis so quickly that she was churning the water around them.
Her orgasm caught her by surprise, and she called out in a long moan under the azure blue sky, her nails trailing painful lines down David’s bare back.
“Come for me,” he said in his Russian accent.
“I am,” she groaned as another wave of pleasure overtook her. David thrust forward as she finished, burying his cock deep inside her.
“I want to swallow your cum,” Cherry purred, and David was happy to oblige. He pulled out of her, and she set her feet down on the bottom of the pool while he lifted himself up and onto the edge, his calves and feet still in the water.
Cherry situated herself between his knees, his massive cock red and throbbing before her body. She cupped her breasts on either side and moved forward so his rigid member would slip between her tits. She bent her head to suck on the tip of his cock while she used her hands to lift her tits and lower them, the sensation of her slick breasts heavenly on his sensitive dick.
Cherry fucked David with her tits while sucking his tip until she knew he was about to come, and then she moved her breasts and lowered her mouth fully over his shaft, her lips pressing against his ball sack, the head of his cock dangling down her throat. She gagged herself but didn’t stop, pulling up so that only his tip remained inside her wet mouth until she slid down again, once more taking him in her throat. She moved quickly, not wanting to be sweet and caring, instead wanting him to absolutely fuck her mouth, until finally he grunted and put his hand on the back of her head, holding her in place, choking her as his cock jumped in her mouth and he blew his hot load down her throat.
She gasped when she pulled away, and then she started to laugh as some of his pearly white cum slid out past her lips. She slid her finger along her chin, gathering the spunk, and ate it once more.
David left the next day. They made love that night, in the bed, the windows open, the soft breeze rolling over their naked bodies. He was gone before she woke. It was just her and the maid in the large house, and Cherry found herself growing sad as each day passed and the man didn’t return.
Weeks passed before he came back. When he did, he was in a bad mood. He fucked her for five nights, hard and fast, filling her with his seed or forcing his cock into her mouth before he blew, even painting her tits and chin with it. She came too, of course, but he didn’t seem to care. She knew he was stressed, was in danger of losing it all. Then he left again, back to America. Back to regain control.
Cherry was pregnant. She found out three days after he left again. She had missed her period and had sent the maid to the mainland for a test. She took it and sent the woman for another. She took that one too, and it had the same reading. She was with child.
When David came back two weeks later, she told him as soon as she saw him. Anger flashed in his eyes. She had thought he would be excited. She had realized she loved the man, had fallen for him despite who he was, despite what he did. But when she saw that anger, she didn’t know.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” David asked, his accent thick. He hadn’t tried to sound American since they had left Chicago.
“No,” Cherry said. “I’m sorry, okay?”
“I thought you were on the pill,” David demanded.
“I am.”
“What the fuck happened?”
“It can happen!” Cherry said. “Stop being angry.”
“Everything I have is gone! I’m fighting for it all, trying to hold on with my fingertips,” David snarled. “Don’t you understand that?”
“Fuck you,” Cherry said, and that was the end of the conversation. She
went to bed alone that night. She woke up alone, before the sun was even out. She got out of bed and went down to the kitchen. Standing at the sink, she filled a glass with water and drank it. In the backyard was a small hut. The maid, a Greek woman in her thirties named Beth, which of course was short for something more exotic sounding, lived there. The light was on. Cherry could see through the window. There, bent over a kitchen table, was Beth, nude. David stood behind her, plowing her with his large cock. Tears swam in Cherry’s eyes, and she ran back upstairs.
She packed what she could, finding a small bag in the back of the closet. She hurried out the front door. The ferry wouldn't come by until later that morning, but there was a small row boat tied to the dock. She got in and set out for the mainland.
It took her hours, but she made it. The sun was beginning to rise over the horizon. She had taken money too, and she bought a room in the city. It was small and lonely, and she sat on the end of the bed and wondered what she was going to do next.
Her cell phone rang. It was David, and she didn’t answer.
Days passed, and he called and called. She didn’t answer or listen to the messages he left. He texted her, but she didn’t read those either.
One day Cherry was getting lunch at a small shop near the hotel when a man took her by the arm.
“You’re a hard woman to find,” the man snarled as she turned. He jabbed a gun into her ribs. “Don’t try anything,” the man said. He was American, and Cherry hadn’t heard anyone with that accent in days.
She nodded to show she understood and let the man lead her out of the shop. A car was waiting nearby, and he pushed her into the backseat. Nathan was there.
“Cherry, holy fuck, I had to come to Greece to get you,” Nathan said as the other man got behind the wheel and started driving.