by Lily Love
The next man came over and pushed himself into my mouth, while the other man spread my legs and thrusted into my pussy. Both holes being used, I focused on my pussy. I had to. I needed something to think about other than all these men using my body.
My back arched in pleasure as I felt myself cumming again. Opening my eyes, I could only see the man’s sac in my face. The smell of sweat and dirt was almost overwhelming… yet somehow hot.
The cock in my mouth pressed deep down my throat and tightened, then burst into shooting hot loads down my throat, over and over.
Looking at his sac, I watched as it bounced up and down, almost in rhythm with my breasts from the man fucking my pussy.
His cock hardened as my walls tightened around his shaft. His grunts filled the room as my mind wandered and tried to escape the situation at hand.
Pumping hot cum inside my pussy, I felt myself ready to simply just roll over and pass out, or scream from the intensity of the situation.
Both men pulled away after they had finished.
A ringing in my ears ensued just as I heard each of the burglars zip up their pants. “Well. I guess that’s that,” the boss grunted as he slipped his shoes back on.
The sound of the basement window opening echoed throughout the basement as everything was suddenly quiet again.
Each of the men made their way through the window as I laid there on the floor covered and dripping with cum.
The last man to leave the basement was the boss. He glanced back at me. His eyes locked with mine as pleasure still ran through my body, coursing through my veins, my adrenaline high and pumping.
My eyes focused on the man in the dark. His face was somehow recognizable. I knew him. He was my neighbor.
Chapter One
Timothy Stewart folded his Armani suit sleeve cuffs over and smoothly ran his soft hands over the length of his chest. While running his long fingers through his cropped light brown hair, he looked in the mirror and said, “You are looking sharp man." Timothy often spoke to himself in the mirror while getting ready for his hectic days. He had grown accustomed to being alone when he woke up in the mornings. The thought of women drove him wild, but the thought of living with one, now that was something he had avoided his entire life. The cruelty of his parents' divorce had affected him in such a way that he pictured all women as being callous and cold hearted. His mother, Evelynn, had cheated on his father with over three men and she had the audacity to take over half of his father's multi-billion estate. She left Timothy and his father to suffer in the wake of her abrupt abandonment, and she hadn't even called to see how either of them was doing in over nine years. The memory of his father's hot tears streaming from his eyes is something that made Timothy loath his mother, but the child in him still yearned for her embrace.
Though Timothy thought of woman as being such cruel creatures, it hadn't stopped him from enjoying the company of many women over the years. He actually had a hard time keeping them off of him. The minute women noticed him pull up in his red and black 2011 Bugatti Veyron they were straightening their spines and perking out their perky chests and firm rear ends. Timothy thought it typical of the gold-diggers to try and present themselves as trophy women, and he couldn't help but be physically attracted to the feminine nature of their gold-digging game. He had the money at his disposal to make the women feel like they were getting over on him. After all, his father was the owner of one of the largest hotel chains in the nation, so he often flashed his money and spoiled the lucky woman who was temporarily in his life. That's exactly what it was, temporary. Anything more than one or two nights would most certainly lead to his heart being ripped from his chest, so he kept everything personal about himself strictly of the table in conversations. Though there were never any real conversations transpiring between the lady he had for the time, as they mostly swapped body fluids and sweat on the way to the high-end boutiques on Michigan Avenue, the final destination of all his sexual encounters. Today, Timothy had a few errands to run before the 10:30 am meeting with the district managers of the Chicago hotel locations. Last night Timothy spilt some red wine on his $3,000 Armani suit jacket and he had to get it to the dry cleaners before the stain set in permanently, then he had to make a deposit at two separate banks and it was already 8:45 am.
Timothy turned right onto the 29 hundred block of Ashland Avenue in his black and red exotic car. He loved his car; it was his baby, the one, and only love in his life. When he got out of his car and walked up to the door of the cleaners, he noticed the blinds were still down. "What the hell?" Timothy said. "You've got to be kidding me." The dry cleaners were still closed. It wasn't like them to be closed ever. He had been getting his suits cleaned there for over five years, and they did an excellent job of getting his suites clean and they never lost his items once. He was a creature of habit, so he was loyal to the dry cleaners. Timothy had no choice but to drive to the cleaners' second location, but it was on Pulaski Avenue, a 20-minute drive in the mid-morning traffic, and he had never been there. He had only known about it from talking with the owner a few months back while he was paying for the service.
Timothy wove in and out of traffic on his way to the Pulaski location. When he came to an abrupt stop in front of the dry cleaners, he grabbed his wine stained suit from the custom leather passenger seat and got out of his car. Walking up to the door he noticed a brunette woman in her early 20's leaning up against the faded red brick building. She was mindfully engaged with her cell phone, social media most likely, and she had a white filtered cigarette in her hand. She hadn't even noticed his exotic sports car pull up in front of her. As he got closer, he noticed that she was wearing a shirt with the dry cleaner logo on it. "Excuse me," Timothy said sternly. The woman didn't reply, and Timothy became instantly impatient, "Excuse me, do you work here?" he asked. The woman looked up at him as if she had just stepped in hot gum with her bare feet, "Yeah, what's up?" Timothy thought it was typical for a woman of her stature to act so unprofessional and bothered by a random man, but he had yet to cross a woman who didn't immediately speak with her best manners in front of him. "Well, your other location on Michigan Avenue seems to be closed today. I need this cleaned by six tonight." Timothy held the soiled suit out to her. "Yeah, the pipes broke in the back room last night and all their customers are coming here for the next few days until it's fixed. Come with me." She tossed her cigarette to the ground and twisted her faded white Avia tennis shoes to put it out. Timothy noticed her ankles were very sleek and feminine. He noticed things like that, and he usually found it to be one of a woman's best qualities. She held the door open for him and motioned with her hand, "After you sir."
Chapter Two
Crystal Matthews was having a bad day. She was overbooked with dry cleaning because of the closing of the other location. She had just received an overdrawn statement from her bank account on her cell phone when a customer walked up to her and tried to hand her a soiled piece of clothing. Her recent ex-boyfriend had stolen her ATM card last week, and he cleaned her bank account out of $3,300.00 before she even noticed it missing from her wallet. He just so happens to do it on the day she wrote a check for her tuition for the semesters credit hours. She didn't know how she was going to come up with the money for school and actually make it to class with everything going on, and she was on the verge of crying. She had learned the hard way to never touch a customer's soiled clothing without her latex gloves on and when she held the door open for this new customer she noticed how amazing he smelled as he walked past her. It temporarily distracted her from the overwhelming problems she was having, and she asked, "Can I have your name?" as she walked around the counter and clicked the mouse on the computer. "Timothy Stewart." He replied.
"E-R or A-R?" Crystal asked. She had made a mistake in the past with the spelling of a customer's last name and had returned clothing to the wrong person; it almost cost her job, and she was extra careful now.
"A-R," Timothy glanced at his Rolex watch, it was alre
ady 9:22 am. "I need to leave. I will be back at 6 tonight to pick it up." Timothy turned to leave.
"Wait."
"Is there a problem?"
"What is your phone number? I need to enter it into the system?" Crystal looked up at him for the first time.
Timothy noticed the crystal blue color of her eyes, and it caught him off guard for a second, "Umm, 244-448-1700", he said. He was amazed at the color of her eyes. He had never seen a color blue so clear that held so much depth.
"One more time," Crystal said.
He walked closer to her and put one hand on the counter as he noticed the macroeconomic school book on the counter, "244-448-1700."
"Thanks. So you want to pick it up at 6?"
"That's what I said." Timothy noticed how luscious her lips looked, and she thoughtlessly moistened them with her tongue as she entered the numbers into the keyboard. This girl didn't seem to care who he was or what he drove, and it surprised him. Most women would be falling all over him by now. That is what he had grown accustomed to, but her, she seemed to be clueless. " She must be a lesbian." Timothy thought to himself. Surely if she was a heterosexual woman she would be trying to get his attention, married or not. Women didn't seem to bother with the fact that they were taken and sworn into a marriage, as loyalty is not a woman's strong suit.
Crystal was taken aback when she finally glanced up at Timothy for the first time. Her mind was going a million miles an hour with all the financial problems, but she couldn't help but notice how attractive he was. She knew herself well, and she knew she had a big problem with falling in love with the wrong guy. She seemed always to end up with a man who cheated on her or stole from her. A few of them even had hidden drug addictions, and she once found a glass pipe twisted in her sheets from a one-night-stand she had. She quickly looked away from him and moved her macroeconomics book to her bag by her feet, but not before noticing the honey brown eyes and tan skin he had and how tall he was too. He had to be about 6'1. She could tell that he worked out; she could see the outline of his biceps through his silk suit. She had never been with a man who wore high-end suits, or any suite at all for that matter, but she could tell it was expensive. "Lucky." Crystal thought to herself. She would give anything to have enough money just to buy a decent pair of shoes. While she was entering Timothy's phone number into the computer to find his account, she noticed the flashy watch on his wrist too. "Nice watch." She said to him.
"Thank you. I bought it as a gift for myself." Timothy grinned.
"That's nice. I can't remember the last time I bought something nice for myself." She looked back at the computer screen.
"Well, that's a shame girl. You should always do something nice for yourself. Does your man get you nice gifts?" Timothy knew he was fishing for information, but he didn't know why.
Crystal laughed, "Ha ha. Sure. Why just last week I woke up to a gift of a stolen ATM card, and then this morning, right while you were walking up actually, I was alerted on my phone of the overdraft amount that he surprised me with as well." Crystal knew she had offered him a little too much personal information, but she was angry inside, and it felt good to vent, especially to a stranger. She looked up at him again, and she could make out his scent again. "Was that cologne a gift to yourself too?" She asked.
"What? Your man stole your ATM card? What kind of man does that?" Timothy knew of women stealing a little cash now and then. Hell, he had woken up to $500 less in his wallet than then when he went to sleep with one woman a few months back, but he had never known of a man to be so cold. "I hope you pressed charges." He said sternly.
"What good would that do? This city has so much crime as it is, they wouldn't do anything about it. I would spend more time down there and away from work I would end up losing even more money." Crystal put her hand to her head; she was still telling him too much.
Timothy was fascinated by this woman. "What's your name?"
"My name?" Crystal said in a confused tone.
"You do have one don't you?"
"Crystal." She said sheepishly.
"Well Crystal, I hope you have learned your lesson and stopped dating losers." Timothy straightened himself. He thought he had just given this clueless woman the best piece of advice of her sad life.
"Gee, you think?" Crystal rolled her eyes at his comment. She wasn't an idiot just because her heart continuously fell for the wrong type of guy. "It's not like I knew he was a thief before I brought him home you know. Your shirt will be ready at 6." Crystal was annoyed by his accusational piece of advice, and she had clothes to dry clean waiting for her in the back room.
Timothy looked at his watch again, "You're right, I need to get going. Be sure to keep the wrinkles out of that too. It's 100% silk and will wrinkle easily." He turned and opened the door to leave.
"Will do, Mr. Stewart." Crystal watched him as he walked towards the door. He had a cute butt from her vantage point.
Timothy glanced back at her and said, "Guerlain Vetiver."
"What? What does that mean?" Crystal asked as she thought he just caught her checking out his butt.
"Guerlain Vetiver. The cologne I am wearing. It's the same stuff Andy Garcia wears." Timothy ran his fingers through his hair and let the door close behind him. He walked into the street and around to his car, running a hand over the top of it as he opened the driver side door.
Crystal watched as Timothy walked to the street. When he placed a hand on the roof of the exotic car in the street she realized just how much money he must have. She hadn't even noticed that sexy car pull up in front of the store before. She had a passion for exotic cars, and she knew right away that it was a 2011 Bugatti Veyron. "What I wouldn't give to ride in one of those." Crystal thought to herself.
Chapter Three
Timothy's drive to the Chicago Community Bank went by really fast. He couldn't get the amazing image of Crystal's blue eyes out of his head. He had a twisted feeling in his stomach, like a bunch of knots twisting inside of his gut. The way she had licked her lips had Timothy's mouthwatering, and he started imagining what she might taste like. The fact that she didn't care about his car or money, attracted him to Crystal. He has heard plenty of sob stories from random women over the course of his life. Women would tell him anything to get some sympathy and a few extra hundred dollars to spend on Michigan Avenue. However, he never once felt sympathetic for the reckless nature of those women. Crystal, on the other hand, he felt deep sympathy for her story. She hadn't meant to tell him about her boyfriend stealing her money; he had sort of brought it up when he asked if her man bought her nice things. Why did he ask her that anyways? It was at that moment when he questions his motives for asking her about her man, that he realized he wanted to do something special for Crystal. He had a few hours before he had to go back to the dry cleaners and pick up his suit, which gave him plenty of time to concoct an idea. He couldn't remember a time when he wanted to do something special for a woman that he wasn't about to sleep with. Crystal made him feel different. There was something about her nonchalant attitude towards him and life in general that acted as a magnet. Timothy decided not to stop at the next bank to make a deposit. No, he had other plans for the $17,000.00 he had in the rubber cash envelope under his seat.
Crystal starred at the Bugatti as it drove off. She was thinking about Timothy and the way he looked and smelled. He was a perfect match for the type of men she was usually attracted to. He was tall, tan, dark eyes, and a great smile. However, most men that fit that description have some sort of messy past that usually lands her in someone's dog house and kicking her own ass at the end of a terrible and devastating breakup. She pulled out her Macroeconomics text book from her back pack that lay at her feet under the counter. She decided to spend every free minute she had studying up as she didn't know how much longer she was going to be able to afford school. Hopefully, if she studied hard enough and kept her GPA up, she could get the scholarship her college offers to students who excel in their studies. Crystal had pla
ns of becoming a global economist someday so she would be financially independent and not have to worry where her next moths rent was going to come from. She treated the wine stain on the silk suit and then zipped it up in the plastic bag to prepare it for heating. She set the plastic dry cleaning bag into the machine and set the timer as images of Timothy driving away in his Bugatti filled her head once again. She heard the phone on the front counter ringing, so she quickly headed for the desk. "Super-dry –dry cleaning, how may I help you!" Crystal chirped into the phone.
"Hello Crystal" Timothy spoke softly into the other end of the phone.
"Who is this?" Crystal thought the voice was familiar but wasn't quite sure.
"Andy Garcia." Timothy smiled as he thought what he said was funny.
Crystal smiled, she knew it was Timothy but when he said Andy Garcia it made her laugh a little. "Timothy, if you're calling about your shirt, it's not ready. You just dropped it off, and if you're calling to cancel the service you're too late, I already started the process."
"Actually, I was calling for you."
Crystal was speechless, she had no idea why he would be calling to talk to her, but she felt a little giddy about it. After all, Timothy was handsome, and his car was super sexy. "For me?" Crystal asked.
"Yes. I have a proposition for you.
"Oh yeah, and what's that? You know I can't give you dry cleaned clothes for free right?" Crystal was sarcastic in her tone.
"No, it's not that at all. Actually, earlier today I paid off your school tuition for the rest of the year."
"What? Bull shit. You don't even know where I go to school."
"Actually I do. You see, your school book was on the counter today, so I called the owner of the cleaners, he's somewhat of a friend of mine and I asked him. Then I called your schools financial office and paid $17,000 on your account."
