by Lexi Duval
“When the mood strikes,” I say.
“And others? Do you play with others?”
I shrug my shoulders, and give a yelp of pleasure as I dig a little deeper and rub a little harder.
“Sometimes,” I say.
He smiles, perhaps liking my cryptic replies, and tells me to turn around, and sit on the bed. So I do, and once I'm sat, facing his crotch, he leans down, lifts my chin, and slowly slides his tongue into my mouth.
He tastes of scotch and wine, but I like it. I haven't kissed a man in some time, but somehow, even though this is non consensual and I'm being ordered into it, I enjoy it.
And a big part of me is looking forward to getting more.
He stands to his full height again, and I look back down at his groin. His pants have changed shape now, bulging at the seams. Beneath, his cock looks like it's almost fully erect, just waiting to escape, biding its time until it explodes out of its shackles.
“Show me how well you play with others,” he says, planting his feet to the ground and letting his hands hang loosely by his sides.
My fingers move forward now, and I work at his belt buckle. I let my hand brush over the lump in his pants, and feel an unmistakable throb below. The belt comes loose, and I pull down the zipper, revealing black underwear beneath.
The opening at the front widens, and I take hold of the top and peel the pants back. Within his underwear, his dick pulses as I drag his pants to the ground, unveiling his strong and muscular legs. He looks fit and athletic, like he spends a decent amount of time in the gym and playing sports.
Now my hands grip at the elastic top of his underwear, and I work them down his legs too. I roll down and reveal the base of his dick, then the long shaft, then the thick head, his foreskin already pulling back as it grows to its full length.
As soon as it's released, it springs up and out, pointing at me, demanding to be sucked. I take the base, thick and meaty and throbbing with blood. My fingers just about reach around as I slowly begin sliding my hand up and down.
As I do, I try to remember what the hell I'm doing. I haven't gone down on a guy in as long as I can remember. But my instinct is enough, and soon my lips are around his head, my tongue rolling around the outside. I'm sending him deeper inside me, feeling his warm, pulsing flesh fill up my mouth.
My other hand joins in, and I hold both one after the other, tugging up and down. My mouth works the head, twisting and licking; my hands work the shaft, squeezing and sliding. And all the while, a cloud of lust fills the room, and I begin to lose myself to the well of warmth and need that is growing inside me, as if a beast is being unleashed; one I've kept caged for too long.
“Lie back on the bed, and close your eyes.”
His words break me from the spell, and I'm suddenly cast adrift from his cock, breathing heavily.
I slowly move back onto the bed, lie down, and look up toward the ceiling.
“Close them,” Sage says.
I do as I'm told, suddenly in darkness. I can feel the swirl of the air, the movement of Sage as he walks to the side of the room and returns. Then I feel his hands grip the insides of my legs and push out, opening them up like a flower.
The air is pierced by a buzzing sound, and it feel the sudden vibrations running over my clit and through my pussy. I open my eyes through instinct and see Sage holding a vibrator, rubbing it through my folds, sliding it inside me with a look of huge satisfaction glowing in his eyes.
I shut my eyes again as he looks at me, and feel myself prodded and probed like I'm part of some experiment. But a good one, because I'm still losing myself in this room, and my pleasure is overcoming everything else in my head – the fear of being send to jail, the worry for what else this man might get me to do for him.
None of it registers. None of it matters.
I feel the bed move, and know that he's climbing on now. The vibrator leaves me, is discarded to one side, still shimmering and shaking on the bed.
Then I feel him. His fleshy, swollen dick penetrating me, cutting deep, leaving a trail of pain with it as it slips in and out. He's big, and I'm not used to the feel of anything going that far into me. And suddenly, I feel like a virgin again, that first time when it starts so uncomfortable, and soon turns to delirium.
And duly it does.
He leans onto me now, and still my eyes are closed, and I feel his lips brushing over mine. He grinds with a slow motion, then picks up speed and pounds me hard. I sense he might be close to coming as he ruts into me, then quickly slows up, pulls out, and takes a short break.
“Keep your eyes closed,” he warns as I peek up at him, upper body still covered in a shirt.
So I shut my eyes again, but I reach up and begin unbuttoning his garment, stripping him out of it, running my fingers over his frame to discover what he's packing.
Muscle. Strong muscle, lean and toned. His abs ripple like waves, his pecs tense and bulge as he shifts his position, taking the weight on one side of his body and then the other.
“Put your hand beneath your head,” he says, so I do, lying in a forced casual position, my breasts fully exposed and growing with a sheen of sweat.
He sucks them, licks at my nipples, grips them between his fingers. In his fervor not all of it works. Some is more like groping, some even a little uncomfortable. But most sends further jots of pleasure through me as he continues to pump and fuck me hard.
And then he's out of me. And I feel the bed shake and his weight coming down next to me.
“Open your eyes. Finish me off as quickly as you can manage. Let's see how good you are.”
I twist on the bed, climb onto him, and direct his cock inside me. I straddle him, ride him hard, pumping my ass up and down as the full length of his dick slides up into me and out of me until only the tip of the head remains nuzzled between my lips.
I move my legs forward, plant my feet to his sides, my hands between his open legs, and show him the best sight of me yet. My legs are fully open, my pussy gaping as his dick sticks me, my ass jumping up and down and slapping against his balls.
I watch his face closely for signs that he's coming, but soon I give up, because I can feel my own orgasm approaching. I jump harder, lose my rhythm, and return to a regular riding position.
I grip him on the shoulders as the now unfamiliar pangs of euphoria surge through me, my groans and shouts now reaching their own little crescendo. And as I begin to lose control, leaning into him, hugging him, letting the full force of the orgasm take me, he begins to take charge once more.
He pumps, delivering new jolts, and fucks me so hard I'm sure he'll explode inside me at any second.
But when he does, it's not inside me. Not my pussy anyway.
He flings me off him, slips out, and kneels in front of me.
“Swallow it all,” he demands, sticking his dick into my mouth.
I feel the gush come shooting out, spitting into the back of my throat and filling my mouth. And without knowing what's going on, I can't help but spit it up, letting it dribble down my chin onto the bed.
“You didn't swallow...” he says, unhappy that I turned against his order.
“Sorry...I've never done that before.”
A smile runs on his face.
“That's OK. Next time you'll learn.”
He moves away from me off the bed, grabs some tissues, and starts wiping his cock clean. He flings me the box, and I start doing the same to my mouth and soaking the wetness between my legs.
And then his words fully register.
“Next time?” I ask.
“Kristen, you didn't think it would be that easy to pay off your debt to me, did you?”
I don't answer.
“I need you to do a job for me. But aside from that, well, we'll be doing more of this. Do you understand?”
I flatten the smile on my face, but inside it remains.
Because aside from this cryptic job he keeps mentioning, there are certainly worse things a girl could do to p
ut herself in the clear...
“I understand,” I say, my voice deadpan.
He steps forward, his cock starting to sag.
“Good. Now go take a shower. I want you clean for round two.”
PART TWO
Chapter One
The shower in Sage's mansion – although I'm sure it's not the only one and there are dozens of them – is far more modernly appointed than the rest of what I've seen.
The bedroom, the hall, the study, the living room and dining room; all have an antiquated feel to them. The sense that they were built a hundred years ago and haven't been tampered with since.
The bathroom I'm in is different. It's modern, luxurious, and smells delicious. Although some of that could be the delirium in my mind at the sex I've just had with Sage. Perhaps later this evening or tomorrow I'll feel a growing sense of shame at giving my body up to his demands, but right now, there's none of that.
Only deep satisfaction, joy even, coursing through my veins.
I'm only next door to the bedroom where Sage ordered me around like a sex slave, and still I know that there's more to come tonight. He told me that only a few minutes ago – go take a shower. I want you clean for round two.
Round two...I wonder if he's going to change the pace, perhaps explore different parts of my body. He's already asked me to swallow his come, and this time perhaps he'll make me follow through.
That was a first. Any previous men I've been with have either been too timid or too embarrassed to ask me to do such a thing. Sage Dalton clearly has no such misgivings.
The water flows down my body, warm and soothing. I rub soap all over my skin, rid myself of the sweat and bodily fluids that had accumulated. I pay particular attention to my pussy, cleaning it thoroughly, making myself presentable.
My mind continues to clear, breaking out of the fog of lust that had devoured it, and I consider what else he told me – that he wants me to complete a job for him.
I can only assume, given my particular area of expertise, that this job will involve a theft, most likely of jewelry since that's my main forte. If it's enough to get me off the hook and for him to drop all interest in handing me over to the cops, then I suppose I have no choice.
Thankfully, my work excites me. And as with the amazing sex, it's hardly the worst thing I would have to do in order to get him off my back.
But still, it depends on the job. I'm a professional, and I've always worked alone and made my own choices. If I don't like the feel of a particular job, I won't attempt it. I know my own limits, and I'm meticulous in knowing what is and isn't possible for me.
Still, I get requests from time to time through my contacts. They might want something from here or something from there. Often, I'll turn them down, even if the potential payday is huge, because the last thing I want is to fail.
Failure means no payday. But worse, it might well mean jail. And a lot more of it than the year I endured before. A year living in a cell with Marge, butch Marge with her stinking body odor and horrible, incestuous past.
She was intent on telling me stories of her youth. Fucking her cousins, her uncle, even her brother from time to time. She once let slip that she had her way with the family mule as well, and while you'd usually expect the woman to come off worse in that scenario, on this occasion I felt bad for the mule.
She was a grotesque, horrendous cellmate, and probably made prison life a lot worse than it actually might ordinarily have been. I've always through of it like working in an office - if you hate your job but get along well with your colleagues, it's bearable. If you hate your job and hate your colleagues, it's hell.
And, well, I hated prison and I hated Marge even more. And if ever I was to go back, and found myself in a cell with a woman like her, they might just have to add murder to my list of crimes.
Hell, perhaps they'd put me in solitary...even that would be a step up.
So, right now, all I can think of is that I'll do anything Sage asks if it means staying out of the can. But still, I just hope this job is doable. Because if it isn't, I'll be sure to try my hardest to drag him down with me.
The thought flutters through me mind, but I am fairly sure a man like him wouldn't take a risk if it means getting indicted himself. So, either the job will be easy enough, or he'll make sure there's enough distance between us to ensure I'm the only one who takes the blame.
I douse myself in another later of soap, and just as I'm thinking of Sage and the potential of him screwing me over, I hear a noise behind me.
I turn, and see him opening the door to the shower, already naked, the full sight of his body clear and clean in the bright light of the bathroom. And for the first time I see all of him, away from the dimness of the bedroom, and know he's here for that second round he mentioned.
“I couldn't wait,” he says, piling right into me.
He knocks me against the wall, my body still lathered in soap, and immediately his own flesh is soaked and covered in suds. I feel the simultaneous press of his lips against mine and his dick against my leg, meaty and already preparing to grow.
There's a sudden passion to him this time that wasn't present before. He was all metronomic in his instructions and orders, almost robotic in the way that he fucked me.
Not now.
Now his hands are rushing and gripping. His tongue is dipping and diving. His entire weight is pressing against me, pushing me to the wall of the shower, out of the path of the downpour of water.
Before I know it, he's spinning me around, and his hands are descending to my ass. One slips between my cheeks and slides up inside me, my cunt lubricated by soap this time and not my own fluids.
His other hand drops to his cock, which I can already feel growing hard. He steps back a touch, puts space between us, and then guides himself inside me as he pushes back up against me, pressing my tits into the wall.
There's are no orders now. Just an animal desire to fuck me like a beast, plunging at me from behind, sticking his dick so far up into me and with such force that I yelp and gulp air. Pain and pleasure mix inside me, and I plant my hands firmly onto the wall for grip.
I push my ass back into him as his crotch comes crashing into me again and again, and soon I'm suffering from a dose of euphoria that's just as emphatic as before.
He spins me around, and kisses me passionately again, so hard our teeth clatter together. His mouth and lips fall to my slippery wet tits, devouring my nipples as he lifts up both my legs and sticks his dick back inside me.
I'm off the floor now, my arms around his neck, my back against the wall. I'm being thrown up and down, stabbed on his manhood over and over, his strong arms easily holding my light weight and tossing me into the air with the ease of a weightlifter.
In his fervor, he slips, one leg giving way on the soapy floor, and he drops to one knee as I come falling down on top of him.
I look into his eyes, and see only laughter, and his booming, gurgling chuckle fills the air. I laugh too as I slide on top of him, and we roll around under cascading water with our arms and legs entwined, his cock entering and exiting me every time we stop and find our footing.
I ride him and he rides me, and the fuck is even more intoxicating than the last. The smells and sounds of the soap and water fill the air, and a cloud of condensation mixes with our cloud of lust until we're both red and growing dehydrated as if we're in a sauna.
We screw in the shower for an hour, Sage turning the water cold at one point to cool us off before starting up again. And even with the constant friction and endless fucking, my pussy stays wet, although I can't tell if the lubrication is my own or the artificial work of the shower.
Frankly, I don't care, and it doesn't fucking matter.
And eventually, when he's had enough and is willing to let himself go, Sage thrusts his cock into my mouth once more and demands that I swallow.
“Swallow it this time,” he says, and his come spurts into my mouth.
There's less than befo
re, and this time I'm ready, and in my haze I suck it all down until his dick is dry.
His hands reach down to my chin, and grips to open my mouth, and I open wide to show him what's inside – nothing. Just my tongue, and no come.
He smiles.
“Good,” is all he says, before lifting me back to my feet and kissing me again.
And that's where the night ends. Because once we're done, and we're out of the shower and dried off, he sends me away from the mansion in a private car.
And during the entire journey back to my hotel, my mind is no longer taken by thoughts of this job I'm going to have to do, or the threat of prison.
But the feel of his dick, the touch of his fingers, and the passionate work of his lips.
Chapter Two
“This way please Miss Wright, he's expecting you.”
I'm taken down the corridor by the secretary at the front desk on the 50th floor of a central Manhattan building. Ahead, I see a sign on the door – Sage Dalton, CEO.
I know, from the research I've done on Sage, that this is one of many offices he has around the world. However, this is his central branch, and the place where he spends most of his time.
His business dealings – primarily trading and finance – are a world away from my understanding, however, and the activity on the floor tells me it's a busy damn world to work in.
The noise is oppressive, almost damaging to my personal sensibilities. There's an endless chatter on phones and shouting between different banks on the floor. It's frenetic, almost febrile, and nothing like my own quiet little life, robbing people in the dead of night.
I prefer silence, to be alone with my thoughts. Frankly, I'd sooner kill myself than work in an environment like this.
We reach the door, and the secretary opens it without knocking, having already been called in by Sage. Despite the cramped set up on the floor, with cubicles squashed together and hundreds of people seemingly jostling for space, Sage's office is large and grand.
I pace inside, and gaze at the artwork on the walls and the large windows behind his desk at the back. The New York skyline rises up high, something I've never seen from this height.