by Sarah Thorn
''No. It was a lovely evening, but I haven't.''
When Marcus got to his room, he was sexually charged. He thought about watching a porno, but it wasn't the sight of any old female flesh he wanted. He wanted to see Tonya's beautiful body. The only option left open to him was a lonely masturbation session in the shower. He imagined Tonya in a number of sex positions, coming time after time as he thrust his massive penis into her. His orgasm came quickly but didn't satisfy his desire in any meaningful way.
Tonya dreamed about winning enough money in the casino for her to pay off her debts. Just before she woke up, however, her dream turned to Marcus. When she woke, she was devastated to realize she was out of breath and that her womanhood was aroused. No, she wasn't falling for him, it was just the excitement of wining money that had turned her on, she told herself.
The next day, they played in the casino and went for a walk along the strip. As they walked, they held hands.
''What do you feel?'' he asked as he handed her an ice cream.
''In what way?''
''About me. We've been holding hands for a while now.''
She thought for a minute. ''I like you. But you're still a blackmailer.''
''I like you too. I'm sorry. I regret what I did to you. It wasn't gentlemanly of me at all. You don't have to be my girlfriend anymore. I'll give you the money as a gift.'' It was a tactic that he hoped would work. If he politely rejected her, she would want him more, and before they had to go home open her legs for him.
''Oh.'' She didn't know what to say. When she thought about it, she was a little disappointed. She wanted to ask him if he didn't find her attractive or if she'd done something wrong. Why had he suddenly decided to tell her she didn't have to be his girlfriend? ''I'd prefer to carry on as we agreed,'' she said.
''Well, I'm really sorry I've changed my mind. I'll write you a check when we get to Sandpoint. I'm so sorry to mess you around. I won't do it again.''
He handed her an ice cream which she didn't want now. He'd rejected her just as she was warming to him. Didn't he know it sometimes took a girl a while to develop her feelings?
They walked further along the street. Tonya's mind was working overtime. Why had he stopped? Was she so bad? Was she falling for him? Then she heard her say something that shocked her to the core.
''Sex for all the money.''
He stopped. ''What?''
''I will fuck you if you pay off all the debt.''
She was a clever minx, he, though. She'd fallen for his withdrawal technique, but she had, at least, put her own conditions to it.
''Okay. When?''
''Tonight.''
''No, I want to fly home. I want you in your own bed, in your house.''
''Marcus, that's impossible. My mom.''
''We'll find a way. But I want you in your bed, not in some seedy hotel bed.''
''What about your place?''
''No, your bed.''
Another twist, she thought. Why did he want her in her bed? Was it some kind of weird fetish or did he think she would be more comfortable at home?
*****
Marcus had told Tonya to tell him when her mother went to the hospital. Hospital appointments were usually lengthy affairs, and it would give them more time together.
All Tonya could think about was eighty thousand dollars. She'd invent some story or other for her mother to believe when she found out they weren't poor any more.
''She's got an appointment next week Wednesday. She'll be out all day,'' Tonya whispered as Marcus was leaving the reception area.
''Another week? It's driving me wild,'' he said.
''You'll just have to wait.''
Tonya knew that she'd reversed all her principles. Now she was going to be the best-paid hooker in the world, but just for one day. And it wasn't really prostitution. It was a friend giving her a present in exchange for a favor. Tonya didn't manage to convince herself, though.
Wednesday came, and Tonya waved her mom off in the taxi. She went upstairs and changed into her best lingerie. She put on a gown and went downstairs to wait for Marcus.
Funnily enough, she wasn't nervous. The more she'd though about it, the more she'd wanted to do it. He was very handsome, and he was going to pay her a vast amount.
As she expected, he wasn't late. When she heard his car pull up, she got up and watched him walking towards the door. Before he had time to knock, she opened the door. What he saw, took his breath away. She was perfectly made up, and the gown she had on was open, showing him all the treats she had waiting for him.
''Wow. You look fantastic,'' he said.
''Come in. Let's do it,'' she said enthusiastically.
As she led him upstairs, he watched her behind sway to and fro. At the door, she turned around and pulled him to her.
''When we are finished, please respect me. Don't go telling anyone at work.''
''I have a confession to make to you,'' he said. ''I haven't been fair with you. '' Tonya was listening intently. ''All this has been a game to me. Its' not the first time I've done this, I'm ashamed to say. I have paid debts off for other women in the past in return for sexual pleasure.'' He looked at Tonya for a reaction, but there was none. ''But I didn't reckon on falling for you. Tonya, I'm really not playing around now. Here's a check for the money. I'm going to go.'' He handed her a check for eighty thousand dollars.
She watched him turn around and take the stairs. When he was half way down, she shouted after him. ''And what about me? What about my feelings?''
''You've got the money,'' he replied.
''What if I have fallen for you as well? I was looking forward to today and not only because of the money.''
He looked back up at her. She let the gown slip to the floor and took the pose of a model in a lingerie shoot. He smiled and began to climb the stairs again.
''Then we're on the same wavelength at last,'' he said.
''Yes. It has taken me a while. But I still don't like your blackmail tricks.''
''I'm sorry. It as bachelors game for rich men. I'm sorry. I want you Tonya, and I won't fool around any more.''
''Then here is my bedroom,'' she said opening the door.
He looked inside and smiled. ''Cute, so girly.''
There was a double bed with a pink duvet and several bears on the dressing table. On the walls, pictures of boys that he guessed had been there for a few years.
''Kiss me,'' she said. He stood close to her and put his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her face to his. She caught the same scent that so turned her on when she'd visited his consulting room. A mix of him and some expensive shower gel. When his lips crushed onto hers, she closed her eyes and felt his tongue looking for her. She ran a hand over his face and loved the coarseness of his chin.
''I can feel you want me,'' she whispered. ''Shall I help you a little?'' He groaned at the thought and watched as she lowered the zipper on his pants. As she did, her breasts wobbled in her half bra. When she put her hand inside his pants, she loved the warmth and the scent that escaped from them. His masculinity played in her nostrils, encouraging her to pull his penis out and look at it. Before she began to stroke him, she felt how long and smooth he was. She marveled at the pre-come on his tip, and the tightness of his balls as she massaged them. When she took him in her mouth, she felt a gush between her legs as her excitement raised to a higher plane.
As she sucked his penis, he massaged her shoulders and felt the weight of her breasts. She loved the feel of him in her mouth and the power she now had over him. His pleasure was in her hands, and it made her as horny as hell. When she felt his penis jerk, she cupped his balls encouraging him, but he wanted more than a blowjob. He wanted to screw her and screw her until she came multiple times. He pushed her away and pulled her to her feet.
''God that was nice, you're so soft. I love it,'' he whispered as he placed tiny kisses on her neck. She threw her head back allowing him to kiss her more, then moaned as she felt his hands rubbing over he
r panties.
''I want to taste you,' he whispered. He pushed her onto the bed and opened her legs. He soon removed her panties and looked down at the blonde hairs above her vulva, and the tiny droplets of her excitement. When she felt his coarse tongue on her narrow opening, her body jerked. He held her hips steady and began to lick her with such precision she soon began to shake and moan. She reached out and stroked his hair as her legs splayed wider for him. Soon she closed her fists in his hair and bellowed a few obscenities as a surge erupted from her womanhood and took her breath away.
He stood up and took his clothes off. She watched. His body was long and slender and his muscles well defined. His penis stood erect making a contrast to the angular nature of his appearance.
''You are so hot Tonya. Do you know that?''
She shrugged her shoulders and pulled her breasts from her bra. ''Suck on these when you screw me. I love having my nipples sucked.
When he entered her, he lowered his head and did as she asked. As soon as his mouth touched her, her hips began to buck, and her breathing became labored.
His body felt marvelous on her. Hard and hairy, he was coarse and smooth at the same time. The feeling of his shaft parting her was overbearing, and she soon cried out another orgasm.
When she came back down, he flipped her on her belly and entered her from behind. He reached under her and began to play with her clit. For Tonya, there was no better feeling than being taken from behind. She came again, this time, less noisily but more deeply.
She felt the hair on his legs rubbing against her hips as he straddled her, thrusting his length between her buttocks into her womanhood. The sight of her hips and long slender back was too much for him, and he pumped faster. He held her buttocks and pressed her down as he showed her no mercy. She was screaming at the force of his trusts, his thighs slapping against her buttocks sending vibrations to her clit.
Tonya buried her head in the pillow and screamed more. When she felt his penis twitch, she reached between her legs and stoked her fingernails gently over his balls. He groaned her name as he stayed still and emptied himself into her.
Afterward, they lay entwined in each other, basking in the warmth of the sex they had just so wonderfully shared.
''I like you so much Tonya. Will you be my proper girlfriend now?
''If you don't blackmail me any more, yes. And I'll be watching you, so no more bullshit.''
*****
Tonya and Marcus got married on the day Tonya's mom got the all clear. Never again did they want for money. Tonya completed her management course and ran Marcus’ business enterprise. Tonya had trouble conceiving but after IVF, she and Marcus became proud parents of a little boy called Jake.
*****
THE END
ROCKSTAR Romance – Bad Boy British Rockstar
There was a flash of light when Josh Bloodstone entered the room. It was the biggest gathering of journalists the hotel had ever seen. Josh stood at the door and raised his arms above his head. Flash after flash illuminated his face. He was surrounded by bodyguards and press officers from his record label.
''Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen,'' a man in a suit said. ''I'm Harry Jones from Brandy, Josh's label. Thank you for coming to the Hilton today. We are so proud of Josh and what he has done. He's the world's number one recording artist as we speak.'' More flashes, this time as Josh reached the stage. ''As you have been told you have half an hour to ask Josh what you want. Please refrain from asking anything about his personal life. Keep it about his music.''
The man stood aside, and Josh stood by the microphone. He looked strangely out of place in the luxury hotel. It was supposed to be a place where gray-suited business people met, not a place for a tattooed, pierced pop star.
''Right,'' Josh said. ''I ain't got all fucking day. So ask your filth.'' His manager, standing just off stage, cringed. No matter how he tried, he couldn't get Josh to stop swearing. Surely it couldn't be so hard to stop. But Harry Jones had been to Eton and Josh had been to some unmentionable state school in the back streets of Manchester.
''Josh, I'm Simon Hetherton from the Telegraph, can I....?''
''Wow even the posh bastards are here today. I must be doing something right.'' There was a chuckle in the room.
Simon continued. ''Josh, can I ask you what you think about what the Prime Minster said about you the other day?''
''You mean that tone deaf tosser who's fucking our country? He's a liar and a cheat, and he should be put in the Tower of London.''
''But what do you say to his specific words? In the House of Commons he called you the worst of British,'' Simon pressed.
''I'll tell you who the worst of British are. Those faggot politicians. They're bleeding us dry.'' Josh swept his hand through his bleached hair and adjusted one of the rings on his fingers. ''No, but seriously. I have sold over sixty million records, this year. Do you know how much tax I'm gonna pay? More than all those assholes put together, so don't give me no shit about being the worst of British.''
''Josh, I'm Richard Evans from the Rock and Roll Times....''
''You can fuck off straight away. You called me a prick in your article. What was it? Yes, that's right. The biggest prick on the planet. I'm not the biggest prick on the planet, I've got the biggest prick on the planet.'' People roared with laughter, and Richard Evans sat down defeated.
''Josh, I'm Jon Cookeridge from US Rolling Stone. Are you going to be touring the States soon?''
''At last, a proper fucking question. Yes, Jon we've got something in the planning. I think we'll be in the US in October and November. Is that right Tubby?'' Josh looked at Harry who nodded. ''Tubby will send you details Jon, okay?''
''Josh, it's Emma from the BBC....''
''Fuck me the BBC. I must be doing well. She's a bit of alright as well isn't she,'' Josh said pointing at Emma.
''Are you anti-women?'' Emma continued.
''Why do you ask that?''
''The way you talk about women, it seems disrespectful.''
''Oh does it, little Miss Perfect? Listen I love women, ain't nobody who loves more women that I do.'' The male members of the audience giggled. ''What would you girls do without me? You all wanna piece of me, admit it. Even Emma here. She's acting all prudish, but she wants it really. Look she's blushing, she really wants it.''
''I'm Harriet from the Times. Josh, talking in that manner really isn't going to get you very far. Don't you think it's insulting to women? Because I do.''
''Is that a question? Jesus your poor husband. I bet you make him beg when he wants to fuck you. Although why anyone would want to do that to you, I have no frigging idea. Tubby, I've had enough of this shit. Only one reasonable question, the rest were just prodding into my private life.''
Josh walked off the stage to more flashes. His bodyguards surrounded him and took him out of the room.
When they reached his hotel room, Josh opened the mini bar and took out a beer. ''Well that was a bunch of laughs.''
''Josh, you've got to stop swearing at everybody. The things you said about Emma and Harriet were unforgivable,'' Harry said.
''Fuck off, Tubby. What the hell do you know? The last time you dipped your wick the fucking Titanic was still in construction. Listen, I'm who I am. I write music and sing. I like to screw women, and I like to drink a few beers. What I don't like are people telling me what to do.''
''Insulting people isn't good for sales, though,'' Harry complained.
''I call you Tubby because you're a fat fucker. That hasn't stopped you working with me has it?''
''I only do that for the money, though. Do you think I would put up with you if you weren't a darn good earner for the label?''
''No I don't think you would, and I wouldn't blame you.'' Josh snapped the top off the bottle and took a swig.''But it's all about money. All those parasites just now were here to interview me because I'm selling their papers and magazines. What do you think sells better Tubby, a story about me insulting the
bitches in the press or a story about my grandmother and how much she loves my music?'' Josh lay down on the bed and opened his shirt. The large Eagle on his chest looked ready to swoop down and peck Tubby's eyes out.
''I know Josh. I get the game too. But it's going too far. You just can't swear and insult people so much.''
''Who gives a toss. I don't insult my fans; they know I love 'em. But the press can fuck off and so can that asshole Prime Minster. Who the fuck does he think he is?''
*****
The crowd cheered, and the fireworks exploded. This was a Josh Bloodstone concert at it's best. The stadium was packed with fifty thousand adoring fans. Josh was the man women loved and men admired. When he bounced onto the stage, people went wild. He was the best-selling British artist since the Beatles. A household name, a person that you either, loved or hated. He was known in every household young or old.
It wasn't his music that had made him known to the older generation; it was Josh's ongoing feud with the Prime Minister. Josh wasn't a supporter of any party; he was on the side of fairness and honesty. One day the Prime Minister had said that the popular entertainment business was corrupting young kids into using drugs and alcohol. A journalist had asked Josh for his view on the Prime Minister's statement, and Josh had gone to town. He'd told the journalist that the Prime Minister was using words from the nineteen sixties and that he was a prude, and had done nothing for young people who happened to have the highest rate of unemployment in any category. He'd also cited the Prime Minister's reputation as a womanizer as not being a good example for young men. Once Josh had made it personal, the Prime Minister was out to get him and ruin him. But it was impossible. The kids loved him, and so did a lot of older people.
Josh threw his microphone stand in the air and caught it again. ''Hello Birmingham. How are you doing?'' The crowd erupted. ''What do with think of that asshole in number ten?'' he shouted. The stadium booed. 'What?'' the booing became louder.
When the first song started the crowd sang along, it was word perfect. It had been a number one hit in the UK charts for weeks.
