by Lila Younger
My eyelids squeeze shut as I imagine what my first time with him will be like. I pretend it’s his fingers pushing inside of me, spreading me for him, making me beg for more. I think about his hard cock sinking inside of me, claiming my virginity, claiming me, in one swift stroke. My clit throbs, my whole body quakes, and I come, my body tightening and releasing in waves. Slowly, I pull my fingers out of me, sigh, and fall asleep.
*******
Spencer wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted to do something special. It’s Wednesday, the second to last day we have together when he gets in touch. For a moment there, I even think that maybe he’s forgotten all about me. Add to that the fact that Scooter’s cut back my hours at the call center, and I’ve been a nervous wreck. My mom tries to ask me what’s wrong, but I don’t want to worry her, especially when she has another round of chemo coming up. It makes her so sick and weak that I spend most of my time when I’m not studying taking care of her. The only sucky thing is that it just reminds me of our problems again, about the money and all it could solve. I debate whether I should even call Spencer at one point, but I don’t know if that’s allowed, or if it would seem too much like there’s something between us when there isn’t. At least, not on his part.
So I put away my phone, reminding myself that there’s a boundary there I can’t cross, not if I want to come out of this whole thing in one piece.
Anyways, mom’s feeling pretty ill, so before I go, I make her chicken noodle soup and place it by her bedside.
“Where are you headed? Out with your mysterious man again?” she says. There’s no energy in her voice, but she still manages to worry about me.
“He’s only mysterious because it’s been too hard to arrange a meeting. But maybe once you’re feeling better, we can all go out to dinner.”
There’s no way that will happen, but mom doesn’t know that. It bothers me a little bit how easily the lie comes to my lips, and I resolve to finish this one way or another tonight. Once I have the money, I’ll come up with a story about how he broke up with me, and I can put this whole sorry chapter of my life behind me.
“What’s his name at least,” she asks me.
“Spencer,” I tell her. “If you need me, call me okay? Your phone’s right here on the table.”
She nods, and I give her a hug. This is all going to be worth it. I have to remember that. Mom’s never going to have to worry about working in a casino again, where the cancer could come back because of the all the smoke. I hate that most of all. That because she has to take care of me, because she wants only the best, she’s going to put her health at risk.
“I love you mom,” I tell her softly.
“I love you too Tessa. Now go out and enjoy yourself,” she says.
“I will.”
I get up and quietly close the door behind me. Spencer hasn’t specified what I need to wear tonight, but I know that I want to put on something nice. After a quick shower, I dig through the bags of clothes he’s brought me. There’s so little space in my closet that I haven’t managed to hang up more than the red gown. In one of the bags I find a delicate set of lingerie, rose gold, shimmering in the light. It’s a gorgeous over the top set, with intricate lacework and glittering crystal beading. Narrow straps on the panties rise over my hips, and there’s a bow on the ass and between the cups that’s demure and sexy all at once. This is a set that’s meant to be seen by a man, that’s for sure.
It also makes it difficult to find something to wear over it. Maybe I’m should just wear a coat over top, give Spencer a little surprise when he sees me. I stifle a laugh at the thought. Knowing him, he wouldn’t even miss a beat. Finally I dig out a gorgeous brocade dress in ivory that would match the lingerie perfectly. I have a bit of trouble zipping it up, but I finally get it with a tug. It’s a snug fit, molding to my curves as though I was sewn into the dress. I slip on a pair of nude heels and toss my phone into a clutch, and I look ready for just about anything that Spencer might have planned.
When I go outside the apartment, it’s not the Bentley that’s waiting for me, but a limo. I can see some of my neighbors gawking, and I hurry inside before one of them reports back to my mom.
“You look beautiful tonight Tessa,” Spencer says as I slide into the backseat. The driver pulls up the privacy screen and away we go.
“I figure that’s what you would want, since you sent over the dress,” I reply.
Despite the fact that I vowed to keep things neat and unemotional, a bit of me is annoyed that he’s kept me waiting, without a word for almost half the week.
“You’re upset with me. Is it because I haven’t called?”
I don’t say anything, choosing instead to look out the window.
“I apologize,” he says, and it’s so far from what I expect that I turn back to him. “I was caught up in a business deal.”
Oh. Right. He’s a really important person. I know I should let it go, but I’m not ready. Even if he was that busy, it wouldn’t have hurt to send along a text, just to let me know where things stood.
“We’re taking over the Sapphire. The plan is to tear it down and build new, but there are over 500 employees there. I had to make sure that none of them lost their jobs in the transition. It’s going to take at least six months if not a year to turn things around, and the last thing I want to do is kick people to the curb with less than a one month warning.”
My eyes widen in surprise. I’ve heard so much about Spencer, but in none of the stories was there even a glimpse of this… well, human side of him. Business genius, asshole, robot, yes, but a kind and considerate human being who cares about his employees? No. My heart starts to soften.
“My mom has friends who work at the Sapphire,” I say at last. “I know that it would be difficult on them if they suddenly lost their jobs.”
I have an image of Bob and Helen, who are basically my surrogate uncle and aunt. They didn’t have kids when I was little, so they sort of took me in and cared for me while mom worked. They used up almost everything they had on IVF treatments before turning to adoption. About six years ago, they finally managed to adopt a little boy of their own, but I know that they still struggle under the debt of those failed treatments.
“I know,” he says compassionately. “We’ve managed to secure positions for everyone.”
“Thanks,” I tell him. Now I sort of feel like a child for getting mad at him when he’s doing something so important. “Sorry for lashing out at you.”
His gaze is solemn, and for a moment I feel like there’s more he wants to say. I feel a rush of fear, which is crazy, but it makes me blurt out my question anyways.
“Where are we going tonight?”
Spencer looks like he’s not ready to let the moment go, but I force a smile on my face, and he gives half a shrug.
“Tonight we’re going to one of my favorite places in the world,” he says.
The limo’s pulled up to an airport, but it’s not McCarran. Instead, it looks like a smaller, private airfield. There’s a jet waiting for us, the stairs down and ready for us.
“Are we traveling? I didn’t bring my passport,” I say.
“You won’t need it.”
The driver opens the door, and I step out. Spencer follows, and together we make our way into the jet. It’s upscale and comfy, about as far away from economy as it’s possible to be. There’s even beds along the back, in case the journey gets to be too much. I’ve never travelled like this, but I could get used to it, I think as I stretch out, slipping out of the heels.
Don’t, I think in warning. This isn’t going to last.
The flight is short, but Spencer and I talk easily. He points out the Rocky Mountains, tells me stories about his winter vacations skiing and snowboarding. In fact, he’s travelled all over the world, visiting more countries than I can even name, having adventures that only a few could even imagine. Meanwhile, this is my first time out of Nevada. There’s a gulf between us that’s vast and uncrossable, no
matter how good he can make me feel. The thought dampens my joy, hovers at the edges of my thoughts.
Once we land, Spencer drives us a short distance from the airfield to a home overlooking the ocean. The whole estate belongs to him, a present for himself when he first successfully opened his own casino. The house isn’t ostentatious, which surprises me, but it does have windows everywhere to take advantage of the view. It feels, cozy and simple, which is a strange way of thinking about it for someone who’s used to the over-the-top opulence found in Las Vegas. Looking around though, I can tell that all the furnishings are top of the line, and most of the furniture looks handcrafted for the space. Of course the biggest thing is the view of the ocean.
Spencer folds away the glass doors in the living room, opening it up completely to the deck outside. I can hear the roar of the ocean, smell the salt in the air.
“Do you come here often?” I ask as I walk out. I’m mesmerized by the sight of the sea.
“Not often enough,” he says.
“Why not?” I ask. “If this was mine, I’d be out here every day.”
“Good question.” He pauses. “I guess I just haven’t found the time to.”
His admission sends flutters through me.
“So this is it huh?” I ask him softly.
“Not quite,” he says. “Come up to the roof.”
Chapter 7
At first I was confused as to why we would want to go on the roof, but as soon as I climb the steps, I understand. It’s not exactly a roof that we’re going to, but a huge expansive patio. The top of the stairs leads to a glass door, and beyond it there’s a gorgeous outdoor master room. I step out. We’re beneath a million stars, and even though it’s cold, a huge roaring fire in the fireplace next to the bed keeps me the perfect temperature. The bed is gigantic, a white fluffy mass of pillows, and there are candles everywhere that Spencer is lighting up.
We’re going to do this beneath the stars? How romantic is that?
I step out, just awed by the sheer expanse of sea and sky in front of me. I feel like I’m on the very corners of the earth, the one last remote location where nobody can disturb us. I turn to Spencer, but he’s not looking at the view. He’s looking at me. He unzips my dress, and I let him push the fabric down so it falls to my feet. His eyes are hungry as they take in the lingerie, my exposed body, open and ready for him. He traces over the lace gently, and unhooks my bra, my panties following after. Spencer looks like he’s fighting the lust inside of him, and I know exactly which is winning.
I walk over to the bed, my hips undulating as I climb up onto the cloud of white, kicking off my heels. I’m on all fours, baring my perfect pink slit to him, lips glistening in the moonlight, begging to be touched. He stands, just as entranced by me as I am with him for a moment, before he strides over to me, pulling off his own clothes. His cock is hard, long and heavy, swinging as he leaps onto the bed behind me. He grabs onto me, pulls me towards him. His tongue sweeps over me, parts my folds open and releasing my juices. Up and down, in and out, the hot muscle is everywhere, leaving wet trails across my hot skin.
I rock my hips back onto him, but his hands are keeping my hips firmly in place. I moan his name as he curls his tongue inside of me, sending shivers through my body. I feel his thumb on my sore clit, rubbing the nub in circles. Lust dances through my veins, and I sag down, head to the side, calling out as he sucks hard on my clit. The pleasure keeps coming, mercilessly strong, wave after wave that drives me wild. I’m crying from how good it feels, his tongue flicking against my clit in rapid succession. His fingers rubbing inside of me, spurring me on. My toes curl as I feel all of it, all of it and then more, my orgasm peaking inside of me and rushing out to the very edges of my body. My pussy tightens around his fingers, his tongue, everything trembling from the force of my orgasm.
He licks me up and down, not letting a single bit of my honey fall onto the mattress before circling my back hole. I jump when he first touches it.
“What are you-?”
“Trust me,” he says.
His tongue presses up against my ass as he wiggles his tongue into the tight ring. His fingers dive inside my pussy, stroking the tiny bundle of nerves at my center. His saliva makes it easier, because this hole is definitely, very dry. He glides in and out, and then he removes his tongue for his finger. I try to breathe, try to remember to relax. It feels oddly good, and I feel even fuller than I do when his fingers are inside my pussy. I didn’t think I could come from this, didn’t think I would ever be into it, but now that he’s doing it, I just can’t make him stop. I want more. How can one man bring me so much pleasure?
I vaguely remember that this isn’t my virginity. He still hasn’t claimed that. That this is just something else he’s wanted, another diversion when it’s so close to the end of our time together. I wonder if maybe he didn’t want to pay after all, that he’s feeling some kind of buyer’s remorse. He dips a second finger, coated with the slickness of my pussy into my ass, stretching out the tight ring wider. I close my eyes, reveling in the dirty, and oh so wonderful, feeling. I want him to do this. I want him to claim every last part of me, and if this is what he wants to do first before our final time together, then so be it.
Spencer leans down, covers me with his hard body. His cock rubs against my pussy, lubing his shaft with my own cream. I feel pleasure up and down my spine every time he touches my clit. His lips kiss my neck, nibbles on my ear.
“You’re perfect to me Tessa,” he says huskily. “And I’m going to claim every last bit of you before this week is through.”
“Yes,” I tell him, pushing back against him. “I want you. I want you to do it.”
“Good girl. Now relax.”
I nod, but I can’t help but hold my breath, try to brace myself against what surely is going to hurt. Spencer’s hand rubs my asscheek, and then I feel the blunt tip of his cock against my back entrance. He pauses for a moment, and then he pushes, slowly, opening me up. I can feel myself resisting, my moans muffled by the bed, and I try to relax like he says, until he enters me at once. I feel stretched impossibly wide, my legs splaying apart as he mounts me, his body over top of mine, driving his huge cock into me. Tears spring to my eyes, the pain sharp and hard, as he bottoms out inside of me, every single inch of him claiming me at last.
He feels so overstuffed, so full, and pleasure seeps through me, radiating from that hot stiff cock inside of me. I feel like he could tear me in two as he slowly pulls out and pushes back in. My breathing is jagged, uneven as he thrusts a third time. Spencer tells me that I’m tight, and it’s true. My ass squeezes the base of his cock, his girth plugging me up. He pulls out, almost all the way, before pushing back in, his balls slamming into my pussy. My fists open and close, tangled in the sheets as he thrusts again and again, the force of him pinning me down onto the bed. The pleasure is overwhelming as he fucks my ass, driving himself to the hilt. I cry out his name, begging him to stop, to continue, until I don’t know what I’m saying at all. His hand is at my clit, swollen so much it’s come out from the hood, and one touch zings pleasure through me.
I didn’t think I could come like this, but it feels so good, pleasure from both sides of me, his strokes strong and sure, and his fingers slipping in and out of me to fill me up as his dick leaves. Over and over, stoking that fire in me, until I come again, less frantic this time, and yet so much more intense. I come like this, in slow motion, each time deeper and harder than the last, until at last he too comes inside of me, thrusting hard against me one last time, driving his cock as deeply inside of me as possible. His cum overflows, spills out of my ass and decorates my pussy, pearly drops of seed mixing with my own cream. He thrusts once, twice more, emptying everything inside of me. We fall down together in a tangle, bodies pressed together as if we are one. His cock is throbbing inside of me, and I don’t want to let him go.
He kisses me over and over, on my shoulder my neck, until I turn just enough for our lips to meet. There’s some
thing different about this, about the way he pulls me close to him, as if afraid I’d float away if he didn’t hold on. I know this is bad, this feeling of connection, of intimacy. This is the complete opposite of business as usual. But for right now, I don’t think about any of that at all but how good it feels to sleep in Spencer’s arms.
*******
I wake up happy, which is a nice change of pace. These past few weeks have been filled with worry and stress, but this morning I’m hopeful. I honestly thought we’d get around to having sex finally last night, but we just cuddled and slept together. It feels good, don’t get me wrong, but I’m definitely confused. There’s no sign of Spencer at all. I get out of bed and pull on yesterday’s clothes. The view is just as breathtaking in the light of day as it was at night, the ocean shimmering and breaking up against the rocks. Spencer is so lucky. Even if he doesn’t appreciate this view, I do.
A breeze blows by, and I shiver a little in my dress. I open the door and walk down the stairs. Spencer’s in the gourmet kitchen, whipping up breakfast. He’s pulled on a red flannel shirt and a worn pair of jeans. They fit him perfectly, and I take a minute to study this new, more relaxed Spencer. I wonder just how many people have seen him like this, out of a suit. He seems more relaxed too, more approachable, the hard edges of him smoothed away by the loose clothes. I like this side of him.
His phone rings just as I’m about to announce myself, and I take a step backwards so he can’t see me. I should probably just go back upstairs, since it could be an important business conversation, but the name of the caller stops me.
“Miranda, thanks for getting back to me,” he says.
There’s a bit of silence, and I wonder if it’s Miranda from Honey Foxes. Fear seizes me, and I listen in.
“Yes, that’s perfect,” he says. “It’s finished.”
