by Asia Marquis
“Ten.”
“No way! You look barely 20!”
Oh, the flattery! “No, I'm 29. I had her when I was 19.”
“I've never dated a mother before. I guess you're a...”
“Don't you dare say it!”
“You're a MILF!”
I gently hit his shoulder. “This is our first date, you can't say something like that! And anyway, I barely know you, and my hair is a mess and I'm so gross. I'm definitely not a MILF.”
His hand, soft and gentle, cups under my chin and forces me to look into his intense eyes. His ambitions and power swirls behind the colors, drawing me in. “I don't do flattery, Melissa. I'm a busy man, I don't have time for it. You may not be looking your best right now, but with the right attention I can see that underneath the dirt you're a diamond waiting to shine. Will you let me show you that tonight?”
I gulp. I feel like I'm melting into him. I open my mouth and then close it several times, trying and failing to find an answer, and only barely managing to squeak out an, “Okay”.
“Good. Javier, take us to a dress shop.”
His driver nods. I barely even noticed him.
“Now you're going to let me buy you a dress, and you're going to let the women there do your hair and makeup as well. Then, we're going to have dinner. After that, what you do is up to you.”
“I've never done something like this. I'm just a poor black mother.”
“No, I suspect you haven't. Your goal tonight is to never, not even once, say no to me. Not unless you want the night to end then and there.” He tilts my head higher, his eyes falling to my neck. Joe licks his lips. “Do you understand.”
“I understand,” I breathe. I grip my slacks, pulling on the fabric as a wave of fear and arousal hits my stomach.
Joe leans in, his lips just lightly touching my earlobe. “Good. Here's your first test.” His mouth hits my neck, hard and fast, his teeth sinking into my flesh. I press against his chest, but I'm careful not to say a word. It hurts at first, but then it feels good. His tongue flicks against my black skin, and then he pulls away like nothing happened. I'm left wanting, yearning. Squeezing my thighs together to calm myself down, I bite my lower lip and lean against him. My head is swimming.
The store is located in the basement of a huge building, but that doesn't make it any less beautiful. As soon as I step in, the smell of sandalwood hits my nose, reminding me of when my mother would light incense on Sundays.
“Take a look around while I speak with the woman at the counter, Melissa.”
Joe walks away from me, sliding his hands into his pant pockets after greeting the sales lady with a handshake. I turn to the racks of dresses on the wall, all in beautiful bright colors. Some are long and sleek, others with corsets and larger skirts. There are dresses meant for prom and for weddings, and then there are the dresses meant for hot dates.
I touch the fabric of each dress on this rack, the soft silks and cottons pleasing my senses. Joe comes up behind me, wrapping his arm around my waist. I have my hand on one red dress that's caught my eye.
“I like that one.”
“Me too.”
He takes it off the rack and hands it to me. “I want you to try it on.”
I try to check the price tag, but there isn't one. “But how much is it?”
Joe shakes his head. “Don't worry about that. Go put it on. I'll wait for you out here.”
I walk past the row of chairs that sit in front of the dressing rooms and into one of them. I hang up the dress and check myself out in the mirror. Oh, I still have some wine on my leg. It looks like blood, like I just started my period. And my hair is even worse than I thought! My natural black hair is out of control.
Frustrated, I pull out the hair tie and let my mane loose. Bad idea. The humidity has made it so it's gross and unmanageable, even for black hair. I try to smooth it down as much as I can before giving up and wiping the wine off of my leg. Why can't I just be beautiful and ladylike? What does this white guy even see in me?
I pull off my clothes, making sure not to look at myself naked. The dress, surprisingly, fits me perfectly. Glancing back at the mirror, I'm almost taken away. I look like a woman, with real curves and everything. My skin is dark, but it's beautiful. Like the night, or a black leopard. If it weren't for my hair and face, I might even feel worthy of being on Joe's arm.
I unlock the door and take a deep breath. I hope he thinks I look good.
When I finally step out, he's there waiting for me in one of the chairs. At first he looks bored, but then when he sees me his manner changes altogether. He sits forward, leaning on his elbows. His pupils dilate. His face even goes a little red.
“We're getting you that dress.”
“Oh, okay,” I stammer.
He stands up, taking my hips and making me spin before him. “Yeah, we're definitely taking this. Why don't you... let me help you take it off.”
“What?!”
Without another word he pushes me into the dressing room and kisses me, hard. He presses me against the mirror, his hand reaching my back and pulling down the zipper to the dress. It falls to the floor, leaving me only in my bra and panties. He unsnaps my bra, pawing at my breasts.
I almost start to protest. I haven't had sex since Amanda's dad left me 9 years ago. I don't know if I even remember how to do it.
Joe's hand gets stuck in my hair. “Ow!” I whisper.
He doesn't even apologize, his mouth pressing against mine. His fingers pinch my nipples. Pressing his hips into my body, I can feel his hardness through his pants. Without even thinking, my hand presses against it. I shiver, imagining how long it must be. This man truly is the whole package.
He pulls away, leaving me frustrated again. He wipes his mouth, but he can't get rid of the goofy grin on his face. “Now put that dress back on, it's time for Cassandra to do your hair and makeup.”
Cassandra is the woman working at the store, who I am betting was bribed by Joe to give me the makeover. She quickly straightens my hair, leaving it down with a small wave to accent my face. The makeup she applies is light, except for the red lipstick. When I finally look at myself in a mirror, I can hardly recognize myself.
And then we're off in a hurry again, Joe pulling me out of the store.
“Did you even pay for the dress?”
“They have my card on file,” he says, resting his hand on my upper thigh while we're in the back of his car.
“What? How often do you go there.”
He chuckles. “Not often. Last time I was there was 3 years ago. It's where my fiance and I bought her wedding dress.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Your fiance? Are you married?”
“No, no. She died shortly after we bought the dress. She was on a flight, and it crashed.”
“I'm so sorry.”
Joe nods. “Me too. Haven't really been serious about anyone since then.”
We sit quietly for a while then. This powerful man just shared a very intimate secret with me and I can't quite figure out why. Actually I can't really wrap my head around any of this. Imagine me, barely a sewer rat, swept up by the wealthiest king in the world and brought on a tour of the finest sights and tastes. That's how I feel, being driven around my city in this expensive car, sitting next to this man who has so much money he doesn't think twice about buying me a dress that's so expensive the price isn't even listed.
It's surreal.
Joe's hand slides an inch up my thigh. Then another inch. It slips under the the hem of my dress and presses up against my panties, just above my clitoris. He pulls the dress up, exposing me.
“Hang on,” I say, worrying that Javier might see me.
“You're not allowed to say no, remember?” He leans in and kisses me, his hand pressing hard against my pussy now. “You're warm down there. I wonder if you're wet.”
His hand slips past my panties and slides into my cleft, his fingers swirling around my sensitive nub. I bite my lip and muffle a moan
as he teases me.
“You're starting to like this, huh?” He whispers into my ear. I nod. He suddenly grabs me by my neck and presses me down into the seat. His face comes closer to mine, so close I can feel the heat of his breath against my cheek. “Tell me you like it.”
“I love the way you make me feel when you touch me down there.”
His hand presses against me again, rubbing hard on the outer labia. It somehow feels even better than direct stimulation of my clit. His other hand presses down on my lower abdomen, which increases the pleasure.
“Oh, god,” I moan. Instinctively I feel my tits up. Each touch sends electricity coursing through my body. It makes my teeth chatter.
Then he pulls away, teasing me yet again. “You have to stop doing that,” I whine, writing against the seat. He pulls on the low neck of the dress and reveals my breasts. I look over at Javier who is doing his best not to watch us.
Joe's mouth sucks in my right nipple while his hand works on the other one. Both are hard and sensitive. I love my breasts being played with, the sensation of his tongue pressing against me. It's gentle and rough all at once.
I watch as his head dips down and he presses his face into my cleavage. He breathes in my aroma, his hands squeezing my breasts against his face. His mouth opens, and he licks the ebony skin between my breasts as he looks up at me. The itch between my legs is getting worse. I squeeze my thighs together to give myself some release.
“Why are you wiggling?” He asks. “Is it because you want to be touched? Here, maybe?” Joe presses against my mound once, then slips his hand under my panties. A finger dares me to wiggle as it stands against my hole. “Or maybe here?”
“Oh god,” I moan. “Anyway, just don't stop this time! You're driving me crazy!”
He sticks his finger into me, the rough pad of it turned up towards the car's ceiling. It wriggles against my insides.
“Oooh, yes, that's the spot!”
He pulls his finger almost to the exit, then pushes it back in. It grazes, ever so gently, against a wonderful spot that sends warmth throughout my body. Joe wriggles the finger some more, teasing me. As if in desperation, I open my legs wide for him. I gasp in response to his movements, each wiggle sending a jolt of pleasure through my body. My cunt clamps down on his finger, then loosens, then repeats. He lets a second finger enter me, then a third.
His hand moves faster now, pumping in and out of me. I spread my legs wider. My wetness is starting to drip down my thigh. Before it can touch his seats, Joe leans down and licks it up. Having his tongue against my thighs is such a turn on that I gasp from that alone. I try to stay quiet but each moan comes out as a little yelp, a sharp “Oh”!
My thighs begin to shake and I know I'm sure to orgasm soon. I grab Joe's hair and shove his face into my cunt so that he can lick me while he finger fucks me. I'm not sure where that came from, but his hot tongue pressed against my clit sends me over the edge and I feel a warm rush over my whole body. I scream and shake and hold on tight to Joe's beautiful hair as I orgasm hard.
“That was beautiful,” he says. “You look beautiful when you finally relax. It's all that worry that makes your life harder than it needs to be. Ah, here we are.”
I push myself up from the seats, blushing so hard that I look like I might explode into a million pieces. After adjusting my dress, I look out the window and notice the restaurant we're nearing. It's more like a modern castle, its walls covered in vines and flowers and I think even some vegetables.
That suspicion is proven correct when, as Joe and I pass the wall, he grabs two tomatoes and a cucumber. “Here, hold onto these for a second.” Handing me the tomatoes, Joe takes the cucumber in both hands and snaps it. Its cool juice splashes up into the air. I laugh, and take one half as he hands it to me before he bites into the other half.
“What are these for?” I ask, slipping one arm through his and holding the produce in the other hand.
“Our salad. That's the really cool thing about this place- when I bought it I made sure that it had its own garden. The front is free for the public to pick from, and the back is mostly for the restaurant. What doesn't get used is donated.”
“You own this place?”
“Yes, it's one of my first ventures when I was just out of college. My dad was pushing me to make my first investment, and I was really into the environment back then. I went to a liberal college, so it's to be expected.”
I giggle lightly and nod. Ever since that amazing orgasm, I've been completely intoxicated by this handsome man. I always dreamed of being swept off my feet by someone, and that's exactly with this Joe is doing. Still, I can't help but feel... strange. Out of place. I've never been wealthy, and I've never been pampered by anyone. Plus, I'm getting one thousand dollars at the end of the night, just for going out on this date.
Wait. Does that make me a whore? Being paid for a date? By the time we reach the front desk of the beautiful building, make face is blooming with heat.
“Why are you blushing?” Joe asks, glancing down at me.
“D-don't worry about it!”
A subtle frown gathers on his forehead, but he doesn't make a fuss over being yelled at. I turn my head and focus on the flowers growing outside the window. Their purple hue glows under the lights outside. Looking at them helps me to calm down and stop beating myself up over the possibility of being a whore.
I know I'm not a whore. I'm being paid for my time, not for sex. Right? The sex was natural, not in exchange for payment. I'm not a whore!
“Ah- you're squeezing my arm too hard!”
I look and then gasp in distress, pulling away. “I'm sorry! I just got caught up in my thoughts.”
“It's okay. Let's go sit down and have some wine. I have something I want to discuss with you.”
I gulp and jerk a short nod.
The main room of the building is empty, the lights dimmed. Every surface seems to sparkle as if gold were hidden in the wood. The room doesn't have a specific smell, except for maybe the smell of steak coming from the kitchen.
“It's beautiful,” I breathe, my dark eyes wide as I look around. “I can't believe it's so empty!”
“Ah, that's because I asked them to reserve the space for me today. I have a confession, actually. Would you sit down with me and have a chat?”
Joe helps me into a comfortable wooden chair, its material carves into ornate shapes on the back. Then he sits across from me, and with one motion of his hand we both have a glass of red wine in front of us.
“Melissa, I thought you might like to know that I actually planned all of this. Of course, I had no way of knowing that you might accept my invitation, but I'm glad you did. You should take a sip of wine.”
He watches me, waiting for me to do as he asks. My stomach is tied up in painful knots, but I take a sip and it helps. Still, some instinct within me is telling me to run, now. I don't want to know what his plan is.
“Good. Now, I don't quite know how to ask you this, so it's best to come right out and say it. My father died only a few months ago. He and my younger brother both committed suicide the same day. At least, that's what the police say.” His eyes lower, his thick eyelashes shading his face. “In my father's will, he left me everything. Billions of dollars. But there's one thing I have no access to, which is his library.”
“Why?” I ask, suddenly on the edge of my seat. I love a good mystery.
“I don't know. All I know is that I have to meet a certain condition before I can have access to the library and all the documents within it. His computer, his books, his files on his businesses... everything regarding the last ten years of his life is in that room. I need to get in there.”
I sit and think, nodding slowly. “I think I get it. So, what's the condition?”
“Well, that's where you come in. Melissa... I need to be married and have a child.”
I scoot back in my chair, my hair falling into my face. “What's that got to do with me?!”
“I w
as thinking-”
“Oh no, I'm not having another kid! One is enough, Amanda is a handful and I can barely pay for her needs!”
“No, listen to me. I'm not asking you to have another child, I had my lawyers look over the will. You're a loophole. I could marry a single mom. And if you agree to this, you and Amanda could have everything in the world. Anything you desire! She could go to a private school, have all the best clothes, and one day she could be a doctor! Or hell, she could be the President!”
I clutch my hand to my chest, leaning over with wide eyes. What am I supposed to do? This is impossible! I can't marry this random guy just so he can get into his dad's library!
But then again, I can't refuse either. Amanda could be something amazing, if given the opportunity. She would never have to go hungry again.
My stomach is well and truly aching now. I grab the wine and down it, all the way, hoping for some relief of the anxiety and pain, but it does nothing but make me dizzy. I start to hyperventilate.
“You have to calm down. Think of the possibilities, Melissa. Think of the benefits.”
“Shut up! Let me think!” I scream, slamming my hand onto the table. It hurts, but that pain temporarily numbs the stabbing and clenching in my stomach. “Can I have some time to think?”
“Unfortunately, you must decide now. We have to be married by tomorrow. The will has a time limit, and if I don't claim the library within 48 hours, I can never have it.”
That's it, then. I have to say no. There's no way I can say yes to marriage with less than a day to decide. What kind of message will I be sending Amanda, if I accept this?
Then an image of Amanda flashes before my eyes. Not as she is now, but as she might be ten years from now. Two versions of her. One thin, malnourished, working as a waitress much like I am. The other, beautiful and radiant. Tall and taken care of, maybe married. Or maybe working in her dream job, made possible through college without loans.
That vision makes the decision for me. I will sacrifice myself, my morals, for the sake of my daughter. Setting my jaw, I nod. “I'll do it. But I need my mother to be taken care of, as well. She owes so much on the house still, and-”
