“I want you so much,” I say, grabbing a condom from an artfully hidden drawer.
“It’s going to feel better without a condom,” she says.
“You’re not trying to get pregnant, are you?” I say, knowing full well that she best way a woman could get my money is to get pregnant by me. The lawyers would have a field day and there’s nothing I could do but pay out. Not that I give a damn about the money. Hell, I’d give money right now to Sarah if I thought she’d take it.
“I’m on the pill,” says Sarah, confidently, but I don’t quite believe her.
In the end, though, her body calls to me, and I want to do nothing more but sink my cock into her delicious soft body without anything between us, certainly not a disgusting throw away piece of plastic.
“I trust you,” I say, looking her right in the eyes.
Now I sink onto of her body. We’re all over each other. We’re kissing each other heavily on the mouth.
My hands are on her breasts. Now my hands are under her dress, playing her down below. She moans softly and looks me right in the eyes.
I help her take the dress off over her head.
“Wow,” I can’t help but saying as I get a glimpse of her naked body again. Now it’s more than a glimpse—a full-fledged stare. There’s nothing like a woman like this. What I mean to say is there isn’t another woman on the planet who looks like this.
Her hair fans out across the pillow.
“I need you,” I say. “I need to be inside you right now.” Maybe not the classiest thing to say but it’s the absolute truth.
“I need you inside me too,” says Sarah.
My cock is throbbing again, just aching and begging for release, even though it’s going to be at least the third time tonight. But, hey, who’s counting?
It glides into her without me needing to use my hand for guidance. Our bodies feel magnetically connected, as if there’s something strong and incredible drawing us together.
Sarah’s eyes close in ecstasy as my cock sinks into her.
I push my cock into her slowly, using my hips. My weight rests on top of her and my hands are on her breasts. My body is enveloping hers and hers is receiving me as if it was meant to do this.
I’m kissing her neck and she starts moaning wildly while my cock is still penetrating her at an incredibly slow pace.
“It feels so good,” Sarah manages to say.
She’s moaning as if she’s already having another orgasm.
“Fuck me hard,” says Sarah, suddenly, before her voice retreats back to nothing but moans—the sexiest moans I’ve ever heard in my entire life.
Her body is writhing beneath me. I was going to go slow, but I can’t do it. She’s begging me for it and my own body is telling me what to do.
I start thrusting into her hard. She takes me, getting louder and louder in her moans.
I’m vaguely aware I’m making noises too. I’m normally the strong and silent type during sex. Guys aren’t supposed to make much noise, right? Maybe when we come and that’s it. That’s how the porn videos are anyway, not that I have much time or interest in them. I’ve always been much more interested in real women than moving pictures on a screen. And it all seems to fake to me—no emotion, no nothing.
Sarah’s going crazy with noises. I must be grunting myself. I know we’re making a hell of a lot of noise.
I vaguely think of trying another position, but the thought of potentially removing my cock from her delicious body makes me cringe. No, it’s going to be like this.
I’m thrusting and fucking her as hard as I can. Soon, we’re both coming. It only takes a couple minutes, but neither of us can wait.
“Oh!” is all Sarah manages to say as she comes. She’s simply moaning too much.
I’m just a moment behind her. I feel my cock spasming crazily as I fill her up with my seed. A brief worry of pregnancy flashes across my mind, but the pleasure is too great. The lust is too great.
“Don’t stop,” cries Sarah, as I start to slow down. As all guys know, it’s incredibly hard to keep thrusting when you’re coming. For one thing, the cock gets incredibly sensitive right at that moment and it’s almost so pleasurable that it’s painful. “Don’t stop! Don’t stop!” cries Sarah again.
So I don’t stop. I start thrusting harder and faster than I was before, anxious to do what I can do fuck her to the best of my ability, to give us both the most pleasure that I absolutely can.
Sarah’s moaning beneath me and I’m still fucking her. I suddenly get an idea, and guide Sarah to a standing up position with my strong hands.
I position her so that she’s facing the wall. She puts her palms against the wall and I slide my cock ride into her with ease from behind. Her pussy feels as good as it ever has, and we fuck for another solid five minutes in this position before changing positions.
We’re so turned on and horny that we don’t even bother with the bed. Instead, we get down on the hard floor and she spreads her legs out and I plunge my cock into her again.
We rotate through a variety of positions—she likes being on her stomach with her whole body squeezed underneath mine, me plunging into her from behind.
She also likes being on top, and while it’s a little hard for me to let go of being the super dominating alpha type, I end up enjoying it as well. I’m on the hard floor and she’s riding me, facing me. In this position, she can tease me, but that doesn’t last long, since she wants my cock as much as I want to be inside her.
She rides me and I watch her magnificent breasts bouncing wildly up and down.
We’re about to come when she suddenly gets off me and grabs me, puling me down on top of her. We go for the classic position to finish in—her on her back with her legs as wide as they can be. I don’t even bother with holding her legs like I was doing before, or even trying to support my weight. I simply let my body sink onto hers as my mind goes completely blank and completely wild. My cock inside her and her body are the only things I can think of.
We come in an explosive twin orgasm that leaves us both completely spent, completely exhausted.
“That was…”
I know she’s going to say something complimentary, but she doesn’t even need to, and she realizes she doesn’t need to either.
We lie in complete silence, except for the sound of the waves and our own heavy breathing that’s gradually dying down. We’re completely naked, on the floor, the cozy bed forgotten. At some point, we’ll get back into the bed and curl up with each other, but for now we’re still glistening with sweat and too spent to even think of getting up onto that bed.
Sarah
My life has been completely changed by meeting John. We’re going out now, somewhat officially, I guess. The next month is so glorious and fun and carefree that for the most part I manage to completely forget that I’ve got John’s child growing steadily inside me. How much longer can I keep this up? Surely, he’s going to realize at some point. I can’t be eight months pregnant with a heaving belly—it’s not like he’s not going to notice, especially given the amount of time we spend naked together.
I’m still working as a cleaner for John’s company and the work hasn’t gotten any easier. I’m still living with my mom and that hasn’t gotten any easier either. Janet and I still meet up for coffee and we still talk on the phone a lot and she spends a lot of time chiding me for being so silly and foolish. So that part of my day to day life is exactly the same, but knowing that John and I are going to be spending time together in just a couple days is always my saving grace—it’s the thing that makes everything worthwhile.
Knowing that John and I care so much for each other, not to mention thinking of his hulking muscular body that’s just completely perfect—this is what makes my hum drum life more than tolerable.
I’m happy for the first time since I can remember.
But how can it last?
“I can’t believe you haven’t told him yet,” says Janet, speaking to me through m
y phone.
I’m locked in the bathroom again at work, something that’s become something of a habit for me.
“I don’t know what to do,” I say.
“Well you’ve got to do something,” says Janet. “How long do you think you can keep this up for?”
“I know, I know,” I say, my voice practically becoming a whine. “But I’m having so much fun. I don’t want to ruin it all. He’ll never talk to me again if I tell him.”
“You don’t know that,” says Janet. “And like I said…”
“I’m not interested in his money,” I say, cutting her off. “And I don’t want him to think I’m interested in him only for his money.”
“But you’ve got to admit it’s one of his attractive features,” says Janet. “I mean, hell, if you weren’t already a couple, I’d go after him.”
“Yeah?” I say, my attention drifting to the countless times John and I have spent on his yacht the last month. He even took me skiing for a weekend in Colorado. Not that we got much skiing done at all. Instead, we spent the majority of our time completely naked in front of a roaring fire. The sex hasn’t lost any of its charm in the least bit, and I was even compelled to give John a blowjob in another restaurant bathroom, this one even fancier than the last.
It’s not that I care about his money, but it is nice, I have to admit, to be whisked away from my impoverished lifestyle by John and his series of expensive sports cars, his private jet, and his yacht. I haven’t even cracked the surface, really, of his immense wealth. He has a number of houses around the world, and we’ve been talking about taking some longer vacations together. One of the reasons I haven’t yet experienced the true extent of John’s wealth is because he doesn’t want to show off in front of me. But that’s maybe a minor reason. The bigger reason is that during the crucial business periods, he likes to spend his time as close to his business as he can. He’s still a businessman and can’t go gallivanting around the world at every chance he gets. Well, he could, but he’s not that kind of guy. He’s got a good head for business and I get the feeling he likes to be really involved in the deals. He’s not the kind of guy to just leave his business for other people to run while he relaxes on a beach in Europe or something.
But in a couple months, things are going to be a little slower, and John usually takes a month long vacation. He goes different places each time. We’ve talked about where I might like to go, and he’s promised he’ll arrange everything with the company so that I can have all the time off I want. Of course, he even offered to pay me for the vacation, but I didn’t like that idea at all. “I don’t want to be paid to spend time with you,” I said. He promised it was nothing like that at all, and I realized he was being genuine, but I still didn’t like the idea, and I still don’t.
“Earth to Sarah,” says Janet’s voice, cutting across my daydreaming.
“Sorry,” I say.
“Are you even listening to me?” says Janet.
“Of course,” I say. “You were chastising me as always for…”
“That was like five minutes ago,” says Janet. “I was telling you about the article that came out about you. Haven’t you seen it? I just saw it pop up on my phone.”
“An article?” I say, vaguely.
Why would someone write an article about me? I’m just a cleaner, after all.
“Bathroom time’s up,” comes Cindy’s harsh voice from the other side of the bathroom door. “I don’t care if you’re dating the CEO himself. Rules are rules and there’s work to be done.”
“I’ve got to go,” I say, quickly and quietly to Janet, before hanging up the phone.
I hastily pull up my pants (I would hate to admit to Janet that I was actually in the bathroom), and rush out of the bathroom.
“Sorry, Cindy,” I say, holding my stomach. “Another upset stomach. You know how it is.”
“Too much fancy food with our CEO,” says Cindy, rolling her eyes at me. “Time to clean up some vomit on the second floor.”
In the past month, I’ve been promoted to the regular cleaner duties, which I quickly realize aren’t much better than what I was doing before. In fact, on days like today, when half the employees seem to be vomiting every chance they get, they’re much, much worse.
“No problem,” I say, trying to smile.
I grab a bucket, a mop, some sawdust, and one of the chemical cleaners we use for vomit, and get onto the service elevator.
I’m halfway through pouring sawdust on the vomit when I start noticing I’m getting some strange looks from the regular employees. These are the computer jockeys, the traders, the analysts, the financial people, and of course the techies.
“That’s her,” I hear someone whisper.
Soon, the whispers are getting louder and louder and I absolutely can’t ignore them, no matter what.
People are pointing at me, and they aren’t being too surreptitious or stealthy.
“I can’t believe he’s dating a cleaner,” says someone, not even bothering to whisper.
“What a shame. Look at that body. But she’s cleaning up vomit.”
“That’s Johnson’s vomit, none the less.”
“Gross.”
I just keep my head down and go about my business. There’s no point in getting upset about what I don’t understand, but I can still feel my face flushing.
Finally, I’ve got the vomit situation under control and walk into the service elevator again. The ride back down to the basement is long because the service elevator, despite the name, apparently hasn’t been serviced in years and years and is unbearably slow. Normally this is a source of incredible frustration, but right now it gives me the opportunity to take out my cell phone and check the news source.
I don’t know where to look, so I just head to one of the big news sites, not seriously thinking that an article about me would show up somewhere big like that.
“CEO Billionaire John Clark dates his cleaner,” reads the headline of the article.
Not exactly accurate, I think to myself.
At first, I just chuckle, along with my disbelief. This is amusing, actually. Imagine me, a lowly cleaner living with my mother appearing on the front page of these news sites, just because of who I’m dating.
But my jaw drops when I see the article. There’s a picture of me in my cleaning uniform, entering the big building. That must have been one of the few days that I didn’t think I’d have time to change at work and wore my cleaner outfit to work.
But as I keep reading the article, I start to grow livid. My disbelieve changes to complete anger.
There are about ten pictures of me, many of them with John. There are some of us captured when we were on the yacht together. How did they even get these pictures? It doesn’t make sense. I didn’t realize John was being followed so closely by the paparazzi, but then again I haven’t been following the news much in recent months.
“You see the article?” says a text from John that pops up on my phone.
“Just saw it,” I write. “I can’t believe it…”
“I’m coming to see you,” John writes.
“No,” I write. “It’s OK.”
“You must be upset…”
Upset isn’t the word that would accurately describe how I feel. But the last thing I want right now is for John to come down again to the service basement and for everyone to see us together. It’s better, I figure, if I just ignore the news and keep on with my normal life.
But there are bound to be more articles in the future.
That thought gives me an idea to check another news site. And another. And another. Sure enough, I’m on all of the major news outlets, as well as some of the minor ones that I come across purely by accident.
Some of the articles just repeat the same news over and over, but others add their own speculation. A few of the articles say that I’m just using John for his money. A few hint at something even more sinister.
“Checking your phone again?” says Cindy�
�s voice as the elevator door opens.
I just look up at her, my jaw practically resting on the floor, completely speechless.
“That’s it, young lady…”
“I’m not a young lady,” I say.
My mood is bad. These articles have pushed me over the edge. Who does this woman think she is? I’m in a fighting mood now, ready to fight anyone by any means necessary. I don’t care whether it’s Cindy or the cops or anyone else. I’ll fight whoever right now. There’s no way I’m going to take this lying down. I can’t believe these bastards would write this kind of trash about me. My mother’s going to read this.
Oh my God! My mother! What’s she going to say? It’s going to be disastrous.
My phone beeps at me. A text from my mother. I don’t have the heart to read it right now. I should have known she’d be up on top of all the newest celebrity gossip.
I can’t deal with her right now. I’m too angry.
“Listen, you old hag,” I say, right to Cindy’s face, obviously not mincing my words in the slightest. “This is a tough day for me. And it’s not the vomit that’s bothering me. You must live under a cave like I do if you don’t know the news yet. So just leave me the fuck alone.”
Cindy stares at me with her mouth open. I doubt anyone has ever spoken to her like that before in her whole time here as a manager.
“You’re fired!” she finally screams at me.
“No she’s not,” says John, appearing out of nowhere behind Cindy, practically skidding to a stop.
He’s dressed casually, in jeans and a hoodie.
“Listen, Cindy,” he says. “I can explain… it’s been a hard day for her.”
“I don’t care what kind of day it’s been for her,” says Cindy, turning around to face John. “You may be the CEO here but I have to deal with these cleaners day in and day out. And I don’t care if you two are dating. You can fire me if I can’t fire her. I can’t work with someone so insubordinate.”
Running Back's Baby: A Secret Baby Romance Page 25
