by Eva Luxe
Did I look scared? I wondered. I thought I had managed to hide it pretty well. I played coy, and it seemed as if there was a connection between Mr. King and me. After all, he hadn’t kicked me out then and there. He had told me to go clean. There must have been something about me that made him want to keep me around.
It could have just been consideration for my mother, whom he had admitted was a great employee. But I’d like to think it was something more. Maybe his tall frame would be good at picking me up and throwing me down on the bed. I’d never even had sex before and I was saving my virginity for someone who knew what they were doing, unlike all the dorky guys I’d kissed in high school.
I bet Mr. King would definitely know what he was doing. He looked at me like he wanted to ravish me. But, I tried to stay focused on the matter at hand, so I wouldn’t be distracted and not pay attention to what my mom was saying. She hated when I did that, and it was clear that she really needed my help right now, and I was just messing things up even further for her.
“Hope!” my mother shouted. “I’m sitting here stressed about paying the bills and this could potentially really set me back. Mr. King pays me the most out of all my cleaning or cooking clients, so I really can’t afford to lose him. Especially right now.”
Those had been my thoughts the whole drive back from Mr. King’s mansion. I was letting my mom down. I was adding to her stress. I had to fix this.
“I’m sure that everything will be okay.” I said it with a forceful tone, trying to convince myself as much as my mother.
“You have to go back and clean that house. There is really no other way around it.”
Going back into that house was one of the last things that I wanted to do. But, I couldn’t bear to let my mom down again. I couldn’t stand the thought that I could possibly be the reason that she would shed more tears. I was willing to do anything, even voluntarily go back into that house, where Mr. King was very mad at me.
But, I couldn’t help but admit to myself that I was curious about seeing Mr. King again. And I had a feeling that beneath his tough guy exterior, he wanted to see me again, too.
“Of course, Mom. I’ll go back and do an amazing job. And I know what else I’ll do. I’ll bake him an apple pie. There’s no way that he can still be mad if I bring him one of those. Everyone always says my apple pies are the best.”
“He was mad?” asked my mother, fear beginning to creep into her voice.
“Well, not mad. But, I don’t think that he was happy that I was in that part of the house.”
My mother fell silent and her gaze drifted off. She was lost in her thoughts and I could tell. I was about to scream because I couldn’t stand the silence, but she finally spoke.
“I’m sure he was mad, since he doesn’t like anyone going near him. But, you do have a certain way with people. And with baking goods. Hopefully your pie really can win him over. Thank you, Hope,” she said, mustering the strength to let a plastic smile play about her lips.
“You’re welcome, Mom,” I said, squeezing her shoulders and then walking toward my bedroom.
I closed the door to my bedroom once I got there and sunk to the floor against it. I could still hear the faint sound of my mother crying. I had messed up, big time. I thought that my heart was going to break.
I could only hope that my apple pie could save things. That, and perhaps the fact that Mr. King seemed to like having me in his presence. His words might say otherwise, but his eyes betrayed the truth. I would just have to do whatever it took to win his affection.
When I finally heard my mom’s sobs stop, I realized she had gone into her room to lay down. Good, she needed the rest.
I still couldn’t manage to get the thoughts of Mr. King out of my mind. He looked at me like he wanted to tear my clothes off. And I wanted to let him.
I was sick of being a virgin. I wondered if Mr. King might stop being mad at me if I took my clothes off for him and let him get a really good look at my body, which he obviously seemed to like.
I let my hands trail down to my jeans and I unzipped the fly. I wanted to touch myself, just a little, as I’m sure Mr. King wanted to do, too.
I pretended his hands were my hands as I pinched my clit, a little hard, like I had the feeling he would do. Soon I was rubbing myself as I imagined him ordering me on my hands and knees. I didn’t know where this fantasy was coming from, but I liked it, so I went with it.
I plunged the finger of my other hand deep inside my pussy as I continued working my clit back and forth, up and down. I bet Mr. King had a big cock, to match his big, toned body. One of the rooms had been a work out room, with a towel slung over one machine and a water bottle placed up against another one. So, he obviously worked out and had a rock hard body. I knew he had to have a big, rock hard cock to match.
I put another finger inside me to try to stretch myself out because I knew Mr. King’s cock was big.
I’m ready for you, I thought, as I fingered my pussy and rubbed my clit. Wetness gathered, hot and sticky, on my hands as I thought about how good it would feel for Mr. King to fuck me. I want you to take me for my very first time.
I imagined him taking me from behind, holding onto my ass and pushing me on and off his cock as he thrust himself in and out of me. The thought was so hot I came all over, gushing out liquid I didn’t even realized had pooled up inside me. My panties had been dripping wet and I would have thought all of it had fallen out as I stood there in fear but also turned on as he was looking at me when he caught me in his library.
What if next time when he caught me, I was naked? I thought, my face burning when I thought about how I’d just masturbated while thinking about him. I bet then he’d have to punish me good and hard.
It almost seemed like a dream too good to come true. That an older man— my mom had told me he was in his thirties— as rich, powerful, and reclusive as Mr. King would want to take my virginity.
My breath came out fast and quick as I took off my jeans and started to change into comfier sweatpants. I felt weak-kneed, a result of my desire for him and the force with which I’d just made myself cum by thinking about him.
I was glad my mother was making me face my fear and go back to see him again. I’d offer the apple pie— and anything else it took— to win his forgiveness. And I couldn’t help but hope he’d make it a little hard on me to earn.
Chapter 7 – Darren
“Midland Surrogacy Agency,” answered a nasal voice on the other end of the phone.
“Yes. I would like to make an appointment.”
“Please hold.”
Before I could respond, she had put me on hold and I could hear soft elevator music playing. Damn it. I always became so impatient on the phone but this time was even worse.
I had finally made up my mind about what I was going to do, and now this ungrateful receptionist— of a company to whom I was trying to give a lot of money for its services— was making me wait. And she wasn’t the first one to do that. You’d think places that stand to benefit financially would move a lot faster in providing services, but that was not turning out to be the case.
Plus, I was just fucking grumpy all around, for multiple reasons. Hope had left without cleaning. I was going to have to fire her— and Eve too, I suppose, for sending her daughter without telling me, and not ensuring she wouldn’t be a nuisance. I still couldn’t believe she would do that. She must have been really under the weather.
I wasn’t sure I had the heart to fire poor Eve. As I listened to the boring elevator music, I had to admit that truth to myself. She’d worked for me faithfully. If she was feeling bad enough to send her daughter, then she must be seriously sick. And then, she wouldn’t have had any other choice except to leave me in a lurch without cleaning or cooking services—even though that’s precisely what I had ended up with today. That wasn’t Eve’s fault, though—she couldn’t help that her daughter was so bad at the job she herself was so good at.
Perhaps I would just hav
e to tell her to never send anyone else again. That would be a hard order to obey, if she was sick. What would I ever do without Eve? I wondered. I sure hoped that she was feeling better soon— for her sake as well as for my own. But I knew I had no control over that.
All I knew for sure was that I couldn’t chance seeing Hope in my house again. I was unable to get her out of my mind and that wasn’t fucking like me at all. I didn’t get smitten. I was always the one in control.
I thought what bothered me the most about the whole thing was that she had left. I could and should have kicked her out the moment I caught her in my library, which was off limits, trying to steal one of my books, no less. But I had told her to go clean and she had just left.
Perhaps I was so frustrated because I wanted to take her over my lap and spank her, but I couldn’t do that. Could I? She was the daughter of my employee. That would only complicate things. And complication was something I tried to avoid. I wanted to live a simple life, devoid of drama.
So, I was determined to find a surrogate to carry a child for me. The scare that I’d had with the doctor giving me the bad news made me realize that there wasn’t much time left. I needed to make a baby right away— not only because, according to Dr. Milton, if I didn’t act now I might lose any chance I may have, but for other reasons I didn’t even like to think about because they were too damn depressing.
After eight calls to different agencies and being flat out turned down or being told that I basically had to jump through hoops of fire to get a surrogate, I started to get a little disappointed. It seems that paying a lot of money to have someone carry my baby is harder than I thought it would be.
But then, I mentioned how much money I had. And how I would happily pay any amount required to have a baby. Then, everyone changed their tune. Suddenly, it was all about getting me what I wanted— but not nearly in the way that I wanted it, or on my own timeline. Apparently, not even a shit ton of money can buy those things.
One of the things that they told me is that I would have to leave the house to do this. I tried to see if arrangements could be made for a surrogate to come to my house. I was even willing to pay a lot extra for it. No such luck.
It was going to be a parade of lawyers, surrogacy agency representatives and potential candidates, not to mention that I didn’t want just any surrogate. I wanted one that I was comfortable with and that’s a tall order. So, that meant tedious interviews until I found the perfect one. It just seemed like the agency wanted me to take part in some type of lottery where the nearest surrogate would be assigned to me. I wasn’t okay with that.
I was starting to get a headache just thinking about the process. I didn’t want to do any of it. I wanted to keep my peace and privacy. I didn’t want to be exposed to the rest of the world, have people staring at me, reminding me why no one would ever accept me in the first place.
Plus, for those reasons I didn’t like to think about, I needed to start the surrogacy process now, for real, so that I could have a baby for Christmas. If I didn’t, it would be too late. So, I didn’t have time to go through all this rigmarole. I needed the pregnancy to start right away.
My terrible secret was eating me up. It was part of the reason why I didn’t want to be around anyone.
If anyone were to ever know…
I couldn’t help but think about what had happened, the incident that made it hard for me to connect with other people. As much as I had tried to hide from it and forget about it, there it was almost staring me in the face.
I couldn’t think about it. As soon as I had a baby, I could face it, but not before then. It looked as if I really would have to do this process the old fashioned way. It seemed that even though Mother Nature worked slowly, her timeline was surprisingly faster than waiting around on some agency to make decisions.
It was clear that I was going to have to take matters into my own hands— or, cock. And hopefully I could find a willing participant.
Chapter 8 – Hope
I had never dressed up to work at cleaning job, but before I left home, I put on a skirt with a tight sweater. I took extra time to fix my hair and tame my wild curls. I even threw on a little makeup.
I wanted to do whatever it took to make up for my mess up. I needed to try to smooth things over and hope to God that it worked well enough for Mr. King to let my mom keep her job. As upset and stressed as she already was, I knew that losing her highest paying client would have stressed her out even more.
Pulling up to the gate, my heart started to beat faster. I could almost feel the blood rushing there. My stomach started flipping so much. I was afraid that I was going to puke. I had to will my sweaty hands to stop shaking or else the warm apple pie I was holding in my hands was going to be on the ground.
“Get it together, Hope,” I said under my breath as I stood at the front door.
I walked inside and through the hallway, listening carefully to any sound that might tell me where Mr. King might be. I heard papers rustling from his office. The door was slightly cracked and the light was on. I took another deep breath, walked up to the door, and knocked.
“Who is it?” came his gruff, impatient voice.
“It’s Hope. Eve’s daughter.”
There was silence for a few moments.
“Yes?” he finally asked.
“I was hoping that I could talk to you. And I come bearing gifts. I baked you a warm apple pie. It’s still warm. Fresh out of the oven.”
“Well, put it in the kitchen. I’m busy.”
That was not the response that I had been hoping for. Dejectedly, I turned to head back down the hall to the kitchen.
But, then, I changed my mind. I pushed the office door open wide and walked through it.
He was shocked and tried to say words of protest. He turned away quickly, his back to me.
“I know that we got off on the wrong foot,” I said. “But, please hear me out. I know that I may have upset you by being in the library. And I’m sorry. I was in the wrong with that. I deserve to have you be mad at me. But, my mother really needs this job. She is struggling pretty bad right now health wise and financially. That’s why I help her out. Because I would do anything to help take the stress off of her. I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”
He didn’t move. He didn’t say a word. I wasn’t even sure if he’d heard me or not. I felt like I’d failed.
Putting the pie on his desk, I said, “Well, I made this for you, as a peace offering. Even if you don’t want peace, you can still have a bite. I’m going to go clean now. Again, I’m so sorry if I upset you at all and it will never happen again.”
He still didn’t say anything. The only sound that could be heard was the echo of my footsteps as I left the room.
I couldn’t believe that he didn’t say a word. I would have been happier if he at least had said something, even if he would have yelled. It was rude and mean of him to completely ignore me like that. And if he weren’t a client of my mother’s, I would have told him as much.
I went to the kitchen, the room farthest from the corner of the house where he was— which I knew now that I had oriented myself somewhat to this huge cabin— and started cleaning. I was determined to clean his house in record time so that he would be impressed, but mostly so that I could get out of there as soon as possible.
The more that I cleaned and thought about what had happened, the more upset that I became.
Who did he think that he was? Just because he was my mother’s employer didn’t excuse his rudeness. I got angrier and more frustrated by the minute.
It’s no wonder he’s out here secluded, I thought. He’s such a monster, inside and out.
Yet, I could feel my pussy clench and some wetness dripping out. I had to admit that his mysteriousness turned me on. And, he hadn’t told me to leave. He let me put my pie down and go clean. Maybe there’s a soft side to him yet. I just had to find a way to convince him to let it come out.
Chapter 9
– Hope
Sweat was trickling down my breasts in rivulets as I scrubbed, washed, and cleaned every corner of the house. I felt like I was moving in fast forward with how hard I was working.
I hoped that as I worked, the feeling of frustration that I had would leave me. But, I actually found the opposite to be true. The more I cleaned, the more I found myself thinking about how rude Mr. King had been.
Exactly who did he think he was, anyway? What an asshole. My mother had been amazing to him. Simply my being there was proof of the fact that she was willing to do anything to keep her clients happy, even when she wasn’t doing well herself.
The fact that Mr. King could be anything other than grateful was really irking my nerves and making me want to say something. Before I finished up the last few rooms, I felt like I just had to say something. I couldn’t hold it in any longer.
I marched up to his office door and didn’t bother knocking. I pushed open the door and walked right in. He was on the phone when I walked in. He paused mid sentence and quickly told whoever he was talking to that he would have to call them back. As soon as he hung up the phone, the words starting to spill out of me like an avalanche.
“Look, I just need to get some things off my chest. Things are not easy for my family right now. My mom is the only one caring for our family and her health is failing pretty badly. We’re so behind on bills and my mother is very stressed on top of being sick. I have two younger brothers who depend on her. She can’t afford to lose her job.”
I paused, hoping that he would say something, anything.
He didn’t. He just stared stoically, with his arms crossed.
It got so bad, I didn’t know if I wanted to scream, cry, or just run. I could feel the tears beginning to well up in my eyes before I had a chance to stop them.
