by Amy Brent
“Ride me,” I ordered, thrusting so that she was once again upright.
She seemed unsure.
“Lift yourself up, then slowly lower yourself down.”
She did so, and in a flash, I slipped my cock between her legs and set it against her opening. She descended, and as I began to enter her she cried out in shock.
“Ah! Roger! It’s too tight! You’re too big! Let’s start with me on my back, open me up…”
“No,” I grunted. I had felt the elastic tightness of her pussy and wanted it this way. Now. “Just go slowly…”
I pushed her forward, so her chest fell to mine again. I wrapped my hands around the back of her neck, digging right into her hair, and kissed her hard. Meanwhile, I rubbed my cock between her thighs, flicking her clit with it, and down along her folds. She moaned, and already I could feel the temperature of her pussy rising. Wetness trickled onto my tip, and I smiled.
“Now?” She panted into my ear. I was showing her how much she wanted it. Her pussy would open for me no matter what. It was important that she knew that.
“Almost,” I said, and then I released her hair. She collapsed against my shoulder, and my hands reached down to either side of her hips. I seized on the impressive mounds of flesh of her ass, and pulled them apart, pulling her center open.
“Oh!” She moaned, and the trickle of wetness from her opening became a flow.
“Now,” I said, and plunged into her.
She screamed, and it was a scream of pleasure, not of pain – as it would have been if I had thrust into her tight little pussy too quickly.
“Ride it!” I bellowed, and she began.
She gasped and moaned. Her tits heaved with each breath. Her skin flushed and her eyes rolled back into the whites. I knew that she had never experienced depth like this.
“Feel it?” I asked, pressing my hand down hard below her bellybutton. “Feel the outline? Every solid inch as I fuck you?”
“Yes!” She moaned, and bounced harder.
I raised my thumb. “When you want me to please you,” I said, “do this.”
And I put my thumb to her tongue.
Confused, she sucked it anyway, and a moment later I reached down between her legs. My thumb, wet from her licking, flicked over her clit, and immediately her pussy swelled with pleasure. Wetness streamed along my cock and soaked my balls, and my god, it was a wonderful view.
“Grab your hair,” I ordered. “Put your hands behind your head and grab you hair.”
She obeyed, scooping her flyaway tresses up and raising her elbows.
The effect was immediate and obvious. As her arms lifted, so did her tits, pointing her lovely pink nipples up at the sky. I gazed at her, loving the effect on the view. She seemed to sense my lust, for in that instant she began writhing her body like a stripper.
“Good girl,” I said. “You’re learning. Now, put your feet up.”
I grabbed her heels and demonstrated, yanking her feet into place. This spread her legs wider, giving me a wonderful look as her pussy rose and fell round the turgid outline of my cock.
“Roger!” She gasped, pounding harder. “Oh, Roger!”
“Be careful!” I warned. “This is deep. I don’t want to hurt you!”
But she didn’t seem to be concerned. She rode me harder and harder until she climaxed yet again. Wetness poured from pussy and made my balls and dick slicker, so that she could speed even faster, up and down, up and down.
I felt myself building.
“Turn over!” I bellowed, and then with a single thrust of my hips I heaved her upward and shot out from under her. Before she could catch her breath, we dropped to her knees, I bent her over, and I rammed it into her from behind.
“Yes!” I moaned. “I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum! Squeeze your pussy, Danielle! Squeeze!”
I could not see her face, but I could imagine her eyes furrowing in concentration as the concentric muscles of her pussy tightened, making me dizzy with pleasure. I felt the load building, and I forced myself to last a few seconds more, for her.
And then, at last, I exploded.
Both of us moaned in climax, and I kept thrusting, making sure to give her every last drop. “Massage my balls,” I told her. “It feels so good, afterward.”
Always eager to learn, she reached down between my legs and began stroking my buts. A soft murmur escaped me, as well as several more drops of cum. I softened, loving the way that both Danielle and I seemed to tremble in unison, until, finally, I slipped out of her, leaving a stream of wetness behind.
She shuddered, a quivering spasm of contentment, and then collapsed onto the horse blanket, spent.
Catching my breath, I nestled down beside her. The smell of her hair mingled with the sweet scent of the hay, and it made me feel so good I was dizzy.
“Will you marry me, Danielle?” I asked. The question came out of nowhere, but as soon as I voiced it, I knew it was the right thing.
“What?” She murmured. She seemed to be half-asleep, still dazed by her orgasms.
“Will you marry me? Please?”
My words finally penetrated into her punch-drunk brain, and her eyes flew open, and she looked at me.
“Why?” She said at last, and I sensed, deep down, that this was some sort of test. Even though she had forgiven me for my indiscretion with Veronica, there was still a seed of distrust there. Of course there was. I knew that she was thinking, because it was what everybody thought: What is he doing with her anyway? It must be for her body? A man with that kind of money is only after one thing.
If we were going to be together, and live happily ever after, I needed to dispel those thoughts once and for all.
I took a deep breath and said, “Because you make me happy. You make me remember that I still have a life to live, that it didn’t end with Victoria. And also…you are good for Maggie. She obviously cares about you, and you inspire her to be creative, and invested…even if not always for the best.”
I said my final words with a deprecating smile, and she chuckled. Then, however, her eyes resumed her seriousness.
“Roger,” she said, “How did you know where to find me in Vermont? I had told Maggie, but I never gave you this address, or even told you my hometown.”
I sighed. It had been such a touchy subject, that I was hoping to avoid this. “I tracked down Veronica,” I admitted. “And convinced her to tell me your address.”
Danielle nodded. “I suspected it was something like that. How did you convince her to tell you?”
“I guess that, when I showed up at your old apartment, she finally realized that I do care for you. And…me threatening to make sure she’d never work in New York City again. I know you don’t like my money affecting our relationship, but…sometimes it helps.”
I was worried how she’d take this. I didn’t want her to think I was manipulating her or her friend. I was surprised, therefore, when she smiled.
“Good,” she said. “Veronica needed a lesson. There’s enough hardship in the world without causing more. And with you, Roger…I feel like there’s a little less.”
I encircled her in my arms and held her against me.
“So does that mean you’re saying yes?”
“Not yet,” she said, and a pang went through my heart.
“Why? Is it the ring? I’ll buy you one immediately, as soon as we get back to New York. Whatever one you want.”
She chuckled, and then she kissed me. “It’s not that,” she said. “There’s one more person we need to check with. Then, I can say yes.”
Chapter 26
Maggie
The day that Danielle and my father came to me in Danielle’s Vermont house and asked if I would like them to get married – that was the happiest day of my life so far.
But the day they actually got married, with me sprinkling flower petals in their path – that eclipsed everything I could have ever imagined.
The days leading up to the wedding were of course spent
in happy but busy delirium. My father rehired Danielle as the head of hospitality, and then told her that he wanted to have the wedding at the hotel, up on the rooftop garden.
This meant that Danielle had full reign of pretty much everything, and all the resources of my father’s business to fund it.
If movie princesses had weddings in the real world, they would be something like what Danielle and my father planned.
The whole hotel was festooned with flowers, from the marbled entranced to the stairwells to the elevators, bedecked to look like private little love chambers. The ceremony was in the evening, and torches and candles complimented the glitter of the city lights which surrounded us all. Everyone important from the city was there, as well as all of Danielle’s family. I was glad they could come, for I had a lot of fun with her brothers, and had been especially pleased when my father nominated Jacob as his best man. I supposed he felt really grateful to him for helping him find me.
As maid of honor, Danielle nominated me. She knew I was young, but she also knew I was mature enough to handle it.
Which leads me to possibly the best moment of the whole wedding – tied, even, when the priest called out, “You may kiss the bride!” and she and my father beamed with happiness. It happened earlier, when I was helping Danielle with her final touches before the ceremony. She took me by my hand, and sat me down beside her at the vanity.
“Maggie,” she said, completely serious. I loved the way she talked to me as if I were another human being. An equal. And adult. “Maggie, I want to tell you something. I love your father very much, but I also love you. I fell in love with the pair of you, really. The two you together, with me.”
“I know, Danielle,” I said. “I love you, too.”
“That’s not everything,” she continued. Her voice cracked, and there seemed close to tears. “I know that I can never replace your mother, but…I was hoping, in time, maybe you could see me as more than a friend, more than a babysitter…”
She faltered, and a single tear rolled down her freshly made-up cheek.
I stopped that tear right in in tracks with a kiss.
“I already see you as more than that,” I said. “You and my father are my everything…Mom.”
She gasped as she heard the word, and then swept me into a hug.
And so, an hour or so later, when she and my father were standing at the altar, I knew that I was getting more than just a stepmom. I was getting a woman I respected, a woman I valued, and someone I knew that I could look to as a real mother, I loved her so much.
But the greatest thing of all I saw when she and my father kissed, as husband and wife, for the first time.
He’s happy, I thought. He’s happy at last, and that’s the most important thing in the world.
Wanna read more about Roger and Danielle?
Turn the page for Danielle’s lesson in BDSM…..it’s HOT!
Danielle’s Lesson
Was I excited?
Yes.
Eager?
Yes.
Willing?
Of course.
Also stark raving with nervousness?
Yes, I was also that.
Roger and I had fucked plenty of times before. Hell, we were making love at least every night, and multiple times a day when our schedules allowed it, and when Maggie was out of the house. I guess one of the downsides of being a nanny is that you’re rarely present if the kid isn’t.
Not exactly good for sneaking out for a quickie with Roger.
But tonight was different. Roger had it all organized, with a special room reserved in his hotel and everything. Maggie was even sleeping over at a friend’s house, so I didn’t have to worry about her. This made me feel better, for I always felt a little guilty for, technically, sleeping with my boss. Roger is so much more than that to me, of course, but I won’t deny that little tugging of guilt where Maggie was concerned.
But that wasn’t why I was so antsy now. Oh, no. It was for an entirely different reason.
“Those are quite good,” the shopkeeper told me, sliding up to share the view of what I was looking at. I blushed, and quickly hid my gaze from her, but she turned out not to be easy to get rid of.
“If you’re a bit of a beginner,” she continued, “then I would consider one of those. They’re easy to use, and less intimidating, I think.”
I quailed. This whole fucking store was intimidating. But the five hundred dollars Roger had given me was hot in my pocket, eager to be spent. In fact, he had ordered me to spend it.
So, in the end, I raised my head and looked at what the lady was pointing at.
“B…bullets? Anal rings? Dildos? What?”
The saleswoman smiled. “They really make a difference,” she said. “Sex becomes a whole lot better.”
“But it already is great!” I felt the need to exclaim. “It’s already fantastic! Why do we need…”
I eyed the towering shelf, taller even than Roger, feeling totally overwhelmed. The lady seemed to understand, for she waited patiently for me to finish my sentence. Roger said I should do this, I thought. He recommended this store and handed me five hundred smackaroos to spend here. I should trust him. Everything else he’s done has been amazing. Why not this?
In the end, I decided on a small, lime-green bullet, and tucked it into my shopping basket. I asked the lady for something simple and easy to use, and she handed me a small, lime-green bullet.
Now that a decision had been made, I felt braver.
After selecting the green bullet, I wandered over to the part of the store that had caught my eye when I first walked in, but I had not been courageous enough to approach. The BDSM section.
Garters, with everything from black lace to shining sea-shells, hung from spindly hangers like alluring cobwebs to a haunted mansion. Stockings were beneath, and above all those were matching bras.
I went to these first, knowing they would be easy. The other stuff…well, that could wait until I had my proper slut gear.
I had begged Roger to tell me what kind of clothes he wanted me to wear, but on that he had been frustratingly unspecific: “Just wear whatever makes you feel confident,” he’d said. “Sexy, strong, and confident. You already fuck like a porn star. Now, I want you to look like one.”
Helpful, I know. Still, I was able to pick out simple black stockings and a matching garter and belt of black and crimson lace. And then, a pair of red high-heels to match. The final touch was a thin black bra. I could imagine his lips closing around my nipple, sucking straight through the lace…
Now, the rest of the section.
Handcuffs, frilled in pink fuzz. To be frank, I thought they looked stupid. Instead, I picked the leather bindings. They were real and strong, but gentler. The soft yet sturdy feel of the leather attracted me, and I soon found myself fingering the lengths of several long, treated whips. I wasn’t sure how Roger would use them – I didn’t envision him actually wanting to seriously hurt me – but I threw them into the basket nonetheless. They existed in a darkened room of my imagination. I knew that, with a single flick of a switch (or leather whip) a whole new world of pleasure would light up.
The last item I teetered on the brink of buying for a full, solid minute before grabbing it and adding it to the rest. That one, I will talk about later.
By the time I made it to the register, wobbling under the weight of all my selections, that very same sales lady was grinning.
* * *
I arrived to the hotel room before Roger. That was part of the plan. We wanted it to seem casual. Businesslike. A meeting of two associates to exchange sexual pleasure. There was something fun and devious about it, pretending as if we weren’t falling in love, as if he were a john and I was his whore.
Once inside, I shrugged off my normal street clothes immediately. I wanted to make sure my skin was soft, clean, and dry when Roger touched me, but it was more than that: I wanted to appear comfortable in the new outfit, practiced and at ease.
I sl
id the stockings up my calves and thighs, buckled the garter, and slipped on the regular, lacey black bra. I left the nipple-less one on the bureau in plain sight, thinking that if Roger wanted it, he could chose to do so. Beside it, I lay the leather whip, handcuffs, and the other toys I bought, like a buffet for Roger’s pleasure.
I tried walking the heels. They were ridiculously high, but I was proud of myself that I could manage. I kept tugging at and adjusting my bra, making sure my cleavage was optimal, and rehearsed the pose I’d be in when Roger entered. I felt like such a slut, parading around in my brand-new hooker clothes.
Already, just by sitting there, I could feel myself growing wet.
There were five more minutes before Roger arrived. We planned it exactly, because we didn’t want to leave any room for mistakes and confusion. I’m going to come right in and start, he’d told me, as we booked the room. No chit-chat. No talking. You better to be ready to fuck right when I arrive.
I was ready. This moment – a whole plan organized exclusively around fucking – turned me on like nobody’s business.
Remember the safe word, he’d said after that. I’m going to be rough. I’m going to throw you on the bed and take you right there, like you don’t even have a choice. If you want to stop, or don’t like what I’m doing, just use the word. Otherwise, I’m going to treat your body as my property, to do whatever I want with.
