SEAL'd Lips: A Secret Baby Romance

by Roxeanne Rolling

  That’s weird. Why does he think that I don’t know what he does for work? Does he think that a lowly cleaner wouldn’t understand what it is the business is all about?

  I don’t say anything, though, except to comment that it’s a nice party after all.

  “I guess,” he says. “But, listen, I came over to talk to you for a reason. I was going to leave the party. I was pulling up on my bike just as you were passing by in your car. Well, what I mean to say is that I was just going to turn around and leave on my bike, and then I saw you in the car, and I knew I had to come back to the party to talk to you, to find you. I knew there was something special about you at first glance.”

  At first glance? He means earlier today. “You mean earlier today?” I say.

  He gives me a confused look. “No,” he says. “When I saw you in the car with your friend, pulling up the driveway here. Here, in the Hamptons.” He ads this last sentence, as if it’s necessary to make it overly clear what he’s talking about.

  Suddenly, something dawns on me: he doesn’t have any idea who I am. He either doesn’t remember me from earlier today at the interview, or doesn’t recognize me in my dress with my makeup. I probably do look quite different than the professional version of myself, wearing my ridiculous interview clothes. I was probably totally overdressed for a cleaner position, but, what the hell? I mean, I couldn’t afford to take any chances and not get the job.

  Should I tell him?

  No, I should have a little fun with this first. Well, that’s my first thought, and then I realize that it’s a really stupid one. I could be risking my job. But, on the other hand, if I tell him who I am right now, he might get upset and fire me or something. I heard he’s eccentric, after all.

  But, really, if I’m being honest with myself, I know that I’m just having too much of a good time talking (and potentially flirting?) with this gorgeous billionaire. For one moment, I don’t have to be the broke woman applying for a cleaning job. I don’t have to be a cleaner. I get to look all fancy and apparently fit in and act like I’m the equal to this billionaire.

  John

  I can’t believe I’m talking to her. She’s playing with her hair in a way that drives me crazy. Her body seems to be calling to me. Her legs seem to go on forever, and the dress she’s wearing is quite revealing, and also quite slim, hugging her gorgeous figure. I just want to bury my cock in her mouth right away, and then move on to her more delicate areas… I would show her what the word pleasure meant, right here on this lawn if I had to.

  That’s what gets me down, though. Everyone is so hung up on this code of morals or something. Everyone is so hung up on doing what other people think is the right thing to do, and most people would think that fucking a guest, with her consent of course, right here on this gorgeous Hamptons lawn in the cool night time would be, well, it would be considered something of a party foul by most.

  So what can I do?

  Well, the reasonable voice in me tells me to flirt with her, and then hopefully take her up to one of the bedrooms. She’s sure looking at me like she’s interested, so possibly she’ll want me to do a lot more to her than just pleasure her in a simple and crude way.

  “So,” I say, determined to start the flirting process. “You come here often?”

  She laughs, a strange high-pitched laugh. It’s kind of weird, but honestly it just turns me on further. She’s really hot when she laughs, but it seems like she doesn’t know it.

  “So what do you do?” I say, trying to start up the conversation another way, since she still hasn’t responded to my joke, except to laugh, and she doesn’t seem the least bit drunk.

  “Oh,” she says, giving me a strange look and a somewhat evasive answer. “A little of this and a little of that.”

  “That’s how I feel, too,” I say, determined to take the ball and run with it, so to speak. I’m going to do the best I can with this little bit that she’s given me. “Just today I was having, well, a kind of a rough day. It seemed like I was running all over the place. Sometimes, it seems like I’m running around doing everything at my company. So then why do I have so many employees, right?”

  “Oh,” she says. “You have your own company?”

  I groan inwardly. The last thing I wanted to do tonight was meet another woman interested in me for my money. I was trying to play it cool and incognito, not admitting that I’m a billionaire CEO with my own company.

  But, on second thought, looking at her, she really doesn’t react the way I’d expect one of those women to act. She doesn’t seem to flinch when I say I have my own company.

  Hell, this is the Hamptons after all, and it’s a pretty fancy party. She might be a billionaire herself, or the owner of two, three, or even four big companies. She probably has more money than me.

  No point in mentioning anything about my company then, even if I was in the mood to try to impress her. Just looking at her, and listening to her, the more sure I am that she’s some kind of secret billionaire. She certainly has a superb education, that’s for sure. Just the way she talks makes her seem impossibly intelligent.

  “You want to take a walk with me?” I say.

  “Sure,” she says.

  “Here,” I say. “Take my coat.”

  “That should help quite a bit,” she says, with some biting sarcasm. “There’s nothing I like more than filthy biker sweat.”

  The comment takes me a back for a moment.

  “I had you pegged for a super sweet girl,” I say.

  She gives me a haughty laugh. “That’s what you think,” she says.

  “That is what I thought,” I say. “Obviously you’re proving me wrong.”

  I take the jacket and drape it around her shoulders.

  She looks at me contently. She doesn’t wrinkle up her nose at all, showing me that she really does appreciate the jacket, even if it does smell.

  She now breathes in deeply, with a pleasant look of mild delight on her face. “I like the way you smell,” she says.

  “Yeah?” I say.

  I take another look at her. With my leather motorcycle jacket wrapped around her body, it looks like she’s not wearing any pants, because of how short her evening dress is. Her legs shine in the moonlight, and her hair does as well. Her eyes are just so fucking cute, so beautiful that she looks like some gorgeous nymph of the woods—that’s what I think of anyway, even thought it’s a strange thought. Obviously she’s a human, but somehow she almost seems too beautiful to be a human.

  “Where are we headed?” she says, her big eyes looking at me.

  I shrug my shoulders. “To tell you the truth,” I say. “I don’t know. This is my first time here. I don’t even know the hosts of the party, or anyone else.”

  She laughs. “Me neither,” she says. “But it sounds like you’re not going to be the most reliable guide. Maybe I should get someone else.”

  I still can’t believe I’m walking along side her. My eyes travel down her body.

  She giggles and looks up at me. “Don’t think I don’t see you looking me up and down.”

  “I just can’t help it,” I say, and put my hand on the small of her back.

  We walk for another couple minutes in silence, enjoying the night, glancing up at the moon and the stars. Of course, I don’t look up at the sky nearly as much as I look at her.

  “I’m John,” I say, suddenly worried that I haven’t introduced myself. This type of anxiety isn’t normal for me at all, and it must only be here because she’s just so fucking hot. My heart is fluttering.

  But, one of the biggest reasons of my success is that my anxiety doesn’t work like other people’s anxiety. For me, anxiety just makes me want to push harder and faster. Anxiety just makes me want to take action, rather than withdrawing. Other people are different and anxiety paralyzes them. But as soon as I feel that adrenaline hit from the anxiety, I’m all over it, and I just feel fucking awesome and know that this is the time to act, if there is any at all.

>   “You’re incredibly beautiful,” I say to her, as I step forward and kiss her on the lips. I put my hand on her cheek and gently pull her head towards me, farther into the kiss.

  She kisses me back, and her lips taste like the most delicious thing on the planet. They are soft and plump and moist.

  I’m not able to contain myself. And she isn’t either. We didn’t need much to get us going. After the kiss, our hands are all over each other.

  She’s grabbing my ass with both hands, and pulling me against her. I feel her breasts and body against me. It’s warm. Her breasts are soft but her body is firm. She’s the perfect size for me. Something just feels completely right about this. Her body feels like it’s made for me and me alone.

  “I’ve wanted you ever since this morning,” she says, breathily whispering into my ear as I bite her neck gently. She moans.

  Since this morning? That’s weird, since I’m pretty sure this is the first time I’ve ever seen her.

  Something in the back of my head tells me to think about this further: after all, she seemed to react strangely earlier when I mentioned seeing her for the first time today. Have I met her somewhere else, in some other context, and simply not remembered her?

  My mind’s trying to run through the possibilities. In my line of work, after all, you have to be pretty careful. People are always after your billions and your possessions. But my body tells me to screw it, and my mind obeys. Soon I’m not thinking about it at all. Now my mind is filled just with the soft pleasures of her flesh. Just holding her against me is one of the most divine pleasures someone could imagine.

  “I want you right now,” I say, whispering into her ear.

  “I want you too,” she says. “I want you inside me.”

  My cock is already hard and pressed into her flesh, only separated from her by her dress and my pants. But upon hearing this my cock suddenly gets another rush of blood. It’s so strong and hard that it’s actually almost painful to feel it. The pressure is intense. I seriously worry that my pants might actually explode just from the force of trying to contain my intense erection.

  “But where are we going to go?” she says.

  “Out here?” I say, glancing down at the ground. The grass is soft, but it might not be the right temperature. Plus, another guest is liable to come this way at some point, and I don’t need another scandal with the newspapers saying that I’m fornicating on people’s front lawns. (Even though that’s not exactly what happened.) That’s just part of being a famous billionaire—people are always looking for scandals. People are always looking for you to misbehave.

  But, hell, I’d fuck her right here. I don’t care about what people think about me right now. She’s far more important than public opinion.

  But by her face I can see that she’s not going to go for it. So I come up with an idea instantly. That’s something that’s also good for running a business—you see a problem, and your mind doesn’t stop racing until you’ve found the solution, whatever it is. Whatever it takes—that should be written in all the business textbooks of the country. Hell, those textbooks don’t tell you anything, though. I went to college and everything, but it didn’t help me one bit. Dealing with people, facing problems head on, and cutting deals—that’s what’s gotten me my money and nothing else.

  “Come on,” I say. “Follow me.”

  She takes my hand and I run in the opposite direction from the house.

  She giggles as she runs behind me. I turn around to see her long legs glinting again in the moonlight, and her breasts bouncing.

  Sarah

  “Where are you taking me?” I say, laughing. “I hope you’re not some pirate who’s come to kidnap me and steal me away.”

  “I’d never think of it,” he says, laughing himself. “A lot of these Hamptons houses are on the property of old farm houses. There’s always a barn around here somewhere. And if I’m right…ah, here it is.”

  We emerge from a little patch of woods into a clearing where sure enough there’s an old barn.

  “It looks so romantic,” I say. “Is that where we’re going to fuck?”

  I don’t know what makes me say things like that sometimes. But, sometimes, I like to just say the most inappropriate thing I can think of to say. I find it’s good for breaking the tension sometimes.

  He laughs, and takes my hand again, and leads me inside.

  “It’s beautiful,” I say, looking around.

  Inside the barn, it’s warmer than outside. It’s incredibly cozy. The moonlight is streaming in from the rafters above. It seems like it’s still a functional barn, because it’s filled with nice soft fresh hay.

  “It’s almost like you planned this,” I say. “It’s just too perfect. It’s really like something out of an old movie.”

  He laughs at this, and motions for me to sit down next to him on the hay. We can hear the wind as the wooden boards creak around us, just slightly so that it’s more romantic than creepy. Although, if I wasn’t here with John, I might be a little creeped out. I momentarily wonder what Janet is doing, but the thoughts soon rush out of my mind as John leans in and kisses me.

  I’m very aware of the incredible bulge in his pants. After all, it was pressing against me when we were outside. Now I glance down at it, without him noticing that I’m doing it. It looks huge in his pants, and I wonder what it’s going to look like naked, and how big and girthy it’s going to be. For having such an erection, he kisses me with an incredible softness. His hand moves to my thigh where it rests softly.

  I’m impressed that he’s able to control himself like this, rather than just kissing me sloppily and going right for my tits. It gives me the feeling that he’s going to be quite good at sex, and that he’s not going to rush me.

  I think back to the last sexual encounter I had—it wasn’t good, to put it lightly. The guy just couldn’t wait to get off himself, and didn’t make much of an effort to give me any pleasure at all, except to say “did you come yet?” after he had already finished himself.

  I realize suddenly that I’ve completely forgotten that I don’t belong at this party. After all, I’m broke and I’ve just been hired as a cleaner. This isn’t my scene, and what’s more, I’m kissing John, my future boss, the man who just hired me this morning. Apparently he doesn’t recognize me, but I sure recognize him. And what are the consequences going to be if I hook up with him now, and then show up tomorrow for work. I mean, he did hire me, but that’s just because he’s somewhat eccentric. It’s not like I’m going to be working directly with him. I’m just a cleaner, so who knows if I’ll ever see him again.

  I realize that I’m just trying to justify this to myself. After all, I know deep down that I should definitely not hook up right now with my future boss. This job may seem like something simple to everyone else, but it’s going to get me out of my mother’s house and out on my own. Then, I’m going to work my way up until no one can ever stop me again. My mother thinks the job is a joke, but I need to get out of her constant and criticizing grasp if I’m ever going to do anything on my own.

  But my hormones are raging. John is the hottest guy I’ve ever seen. He’s thin but muscular. Somehow he seems bulky and thin at the same time. His face is chiseled and he has just the right amount of stubble. His hair is dark and vaguely presidential. I wonder why super rich guys always seem to have such good hair? Or is that just in my imagination?

  “You’re so beautiful,” he says to me.

  I don’t know why but it makes my heart flutter. Such a simple thing to say, and yet it throws all my worries out the window completely.

  He kisses me on my neck and I moan. Thoughts of whether or not this is appropriate are completely gone. There’s no turning back now, and I already know it. So I might lose my job when he realizes who I am (especially considering the very strict workplace relationship rules that all big companies now use), but so what? I mean, I have to think about my mental health too, right?

  “I really want you to
fuck me,” I say, suddenly blurting out exactly what I’ve been thinking but holding back. I guess all this tension makes it just come out suddenly.

  He laughs, and I giggle.

  “I like it when women know what they want, and I like it when they tell me,” says John, looking me in the eyes. He has the most beautiful eyes.

  He’s got his hands up under my dress. His hands are strong and tough, and actually somewhat rough. Not what I would expect from a billionaire, but then again John isn’t your typical billionaire. He rides a motorcycle and does his own maintenance. He hunts, fishes, mountain bikes, climbs crazy tall mountains just for fun—basically he does everything, whether its physical or mental.

  His hands are on my breasts, and I’m moaning softly, tilting my head back as he kisses me again gently on my neck.

  Suddenly, my dress is off, sliding down to the ground. My bra, too, a moment later, is completely gone, and I’m completely naked except for my earrings (which Janet lent me, since I don’t even own a single pair, which is another long story of its own). I’ve never felt so potentially vulnerable yet protected. I know I’m safe with John.

  His arms are around me and his head is between my breasts, licking them. Now he’s sucking on my nipples.

  He’s quickly removing his coat and shirt.

  “I want to see what you’re hiding underneath those pants of yours,” I say, with a greedy note in my voice that I can’t conceal and don’t really want to.

  “Again, I like how forward you are with me,” says John, grinning at me.

  He’s now standing above me, and I’m sitting on a bit of hay that’s working the way a chair would.

  “Come closer,” I say. “And let me help you with those pants.”

  I realize I’m breathing very heavily now that his bulge is just centimeters away from my face. I feel like I can almost smell his cock underneath his pants.

  I can’t even help myself. I give one look up at John and then reach out and unbuckle his belt buckle. I unzip his jeans and reach in. I feel his cock immediately. It’s huge and incredibly thick and hard. It’s definitely the biggest cock I’ve ever seen in my life, and it’s here, inches away from my face.