by Lauren Chase
He moved up between their legs, brushing the head of his cock against her slit. She marveled briefly that he was hard again already, but then an extra hard thrust from Greg made her head fall back and she didn’t see the other man push his cock into her, just felt the incredible stretch of her body to accommodate both of their throbbing manhoods. They pressed deep into her and she screamed and moaned her pleasure, rocking between them to try and match their thrusts. More often though the strength of their bodies pushed her back and forth between them, totally out of control of her own body.
They seemed to have the stamina of men half their age, and she lost track of time and really everything else but the press of their bodies. On occasion when her eyes fluttered open she caught sight of the other two men, stroking their cocks feverishly as they watch. Taking her hands off the shoulders of the man in front of her, she reached out to them and was rewarded by having her hands wrapped around their hot shafts. She ran her fingers over them, tracing the thick veins underneath and bringing them back to full hardness, letting her hands slide underneath to cradle their sacks, gently fondling them before she stroked her palms back along their lengths, curling her fingers around so she caressed them on all sides.
Chrissy cried out again as with a final thrust the two men came inside her. A moment later, the cocks in her hands spurted sticky strings of cum onto her face and hair. The men pulled away from her and she fell to the floor, curled up as cum trickled slowly from between her legs until she was resting in a small pool, too tired to bother moving. She heard them moving around her and slowly rolled onto her back, watching as they all moved towards the door that led up stairs, pulling on pants as they went. Greg was the last one out and he paused just before he turned off the light.
“I’ll be back down in a couple of hours, and we’ll see if you’ve learned your lesson.” Then the room plunged into darkness and she heard the click of a lock being turned over. Their footsteps and the low murmur of conversation became fainter as they climbed the stair to the ground floor, and then the final slam of the door at the top of the stairs cut off outside noise completely.
The endorphins began to wear off as she lay in the darkness drowsing, her mind pleasantly blank. Her body ached but it was a delicious sort of ache that made her knees weak. She let her hands roam slowly down her own body as if exploring it for the first time. The darkness made her blind, and somehow enhanced every sensation as she stroked her own soft skin, feeling the tackiness of drying cum stuck to her and remembering how it had gotten there. She gasped as her fingers brushed over her sore and overly sensitive sex, sending a throbbing pulse through her body.
She shuddered and restrained herself to just the lightest touches, feeling the still somewhat slick mess that coated her thighs, cold now in the dark basement. Chrissy had no real sense of time as she lay in the dark touching herself, but her sore throat made her thirsty and by the time she heard voices on the stair again, her throat was parched. The key rattled in the lock and she instinctively ducked her head as the basement was flooded with light. She squinted against the sudden brightness as her eyes adjusted. Greg crouched near her, just outside of the mess that had spread to quite appreciable proportions. She recognized her clothes neatly folded in his hands.
“Come on, it’s about time for you to be getting back. It’s almost midnight. There’s a shower over there you can use to freshen up.” He pointed to the back corner of the basement where there was a discreet door she hadn’t noticed before. She nodded quietly and slowly stood, steadier on her feet than she expected. The bathroom was well stocked with towels, soap, and even a brand new toothbrush.
She took her time under the hot water in the shower, letting it soothe her aching muscles and rinse the sex from her body. She dried off and wrung most of the water out of her hair then left the towel hanging as she stepped out of the bathroom nude. Her clothes were lying neatly on a table nearby, but she spotted Greg putting away the table she’d been tied to. It collapsed neatly to fit into the deep closet beneath the stairs.
Chrissy paced over to him, putting a little extra swing in her hips. He spotted her when she was partway across the room and raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for her to cross the distance. He frowned slightly as she reached out and plucked his tie off his chest, running the silk slowly through her fingers.
“Haven’t you learned your lesson?” He snapped. She ducked her head and smiled up at him coyly as she sank to her knees in front of him, shaking back her wet hair and catching her full bottom lip between her teeth in mock shyness. She reached up, running her hands slowly down his chest and over the front of his slacks, feeling the twitch of his cock within.
“I’m not teasing.” She murmured, leaning closer to him and nuzzle the slowly growing bulge in his pants. “Just don’t make me leave.”
He looked surprised and confused for a moment, clearly not expecting that response. Her hands reached up to his belt and he caught her wrists, spurred into action. She looked hurt for a moment, but his smile reassured her. “That’s very good dear. Get up and get dressed.”
She stood immediately and walked back to her clothes, but the slump of her shoulders and her slight pout gave away her disappointment. She noticed that the lingerie with her clothing was not hers, but one of the boutique sets, and she looked up questioningly. He laughed.
“A set for your very own. I can be generous when my playthings exceed my expectations.” She blushed, somehow flattered, dressing slowly. She could feel his eyes following her every movement until she was clothed, and then he spoke again. “You will go home, and you will continue to work. If you still want it, I expect you to be here next Friday, at the same time. You will stay the weekend.” Chrissy nodded, a brilliant smile lighting up her face.
“Of course.” Greg beckoned for her to follow and she trailed him up the stairs and back out to the gravel drive, now moonlit and empty except for her car. He left her on the wide porch, closing the door firmly behind her. She lingered for a moment, then with a sigh she made her way back to her car and slid in the driver’s seat, shifting as she felt how delightfully sore her abused pussy and ass were. Getting as comfortable as she could, she pulled back out through the forbidding gate and onto the wealthy, tree lined street.
The very thought of the coming weekend was enough to make her wet all over again.
Party Girl
Fourteen dollars and eight cents. That was all the money Amber had to her name. She had to live on it for another week until her next pay check came in, and it seemed impossible. Even if she could get some guy to but her dinner every night she still needed gas for her car to get to and from work. Not to mention cab fare for Friday and Saturday night. Unless she was willing to home with a complete stranger she'd need to leave early enough to take the bus, which was super lame.
She shoved her wallet back in her purse as she saw the store's manager headed her way.
"Hell, Amber," he said, sneering as he looked her up and down. "Late again today?"
She shrugged. "Just a few minutes. Had a long weekend and I overslept."
"I bet. Another three days of whoring around?"
Amber bit her tongue to keep from responding. Ever since she'd turned Derek down for a date he'd been getting meaner and meaner. Sure, she went out with a lot of guys and spent weekends at the hottest clubs in town, but she wasn't a slut. Far from it. In fact, she hadn't had sex in almost a year because she couldn't get turned on by guys who threw money and gifts at her instead of trying to be interesting or sexy. A fat wad of cash is nice, but it doesn't replace romance or a sense of humor.
"I'm sorry about being late, Derek. I'll stay to make up the time."
"Don't worry about it. I just came over to give you this. Stop by my office on your break and we'll go over everything." He handed her a sealed envelope and walked away.
She rolled her eyes and went back to organizing the shelf of merchandise, tucking the envelope into her pocket. It must be ye
t another formal reprimand. The second that month, and at least the tenth that year. Like it mattered. As if she was going to take special pride in stacking cheap crap they sold for too much money. She really only took the job because a ton of single guys rolled into the store on a daily basis. She'd date them for a little while and get what she could out of them while supporting her real love, partying.
Whether it was a wild rave at a warehouse, getting sweaty in a hip-hop club or tossing shots back at a dive bar, she loved going out. Hanging out with a crowded room of strangers where she could be anyone, do anything. She lived on the adrenaline of a packed dance floor, a raucous sports bar. Anywhere people were drinking and having fun was heaven.
Sadly, her retail job didn't come close to supporting what she spent going out. She got most of her drinks and stuff paid for, but she'd still managed to rack up huge tabs all over the city.
Finally, Beth came to relieve her and she could take her break. As she walked to Derek's office, Amber opened the letter he'd handed her. Her eyes scanned the page and she froze. It wasn't a reprimand, it was a termination form. Effective at the end of her shift, she was fired.
"Motherfucker," she muttered and strode down the hallway. She flew into the office in a rage. "What the hell is this?"
Derek was sitting behind his desk, his beady little eyes full of laughter, scrawny legs resting on the desk. "Ah, I see you opened it. Have a seat."
"Fuck you," she yelled and slammed the door behind her. "I'll sue your ass. You can't fire me because I wouldn't go out with you."
Derek chuckled. "I know. But I can fire you for never being on time and spending most of your shifts looking for a fuck-buddy instead of working. Now, of course, if you changed your mind about the date, maybe I could give you another chance, on a probationary basis."
Amber shook with anger. "I'd rather starve and be homeless than go out with you."
He stood up and came around the desk to stand in front of her. "I figured you'd say that, so I have another option for you."
"What?"
He reached down and rubbed his crotch. "Suck my dick and I'll let you stay. I know you need the money. One little blowjob and your record is wiped clean."
Amber slapped him across the face, spun on her heel and stormed out. As she opened the door she spat over her shoulder, "I'm not a whore. Not for you, not for anyone."
As she stomped down the hallway she heard him laughing. "Not today, maybe. But you will be."
* * *
Four days later Amber was desperate, and well on her way to being drunk. Much as she'd celebrated sticking to her guns, she couldn't live on pride, and she was in trouble. Her landlord would certainly evict her when she failed to pay rent; she had no job prospects and obviously no reference from her last employer. And worst of all, her fallback, the kindness of lonely, well-off men, was almost impossible to find in her current situation.
And so, she decided to drown her sorrows and dance away her troubles at Crave, one of the last few bars she hadn't worn her welcome out yet. Sure, the bartender had to call the manager before putting her first cocktail on her tab, but he brought it to her, so things must not have been too bad.
As the night progressed her problems seemed much smaller. The tiny dress she'd barely managed to wiggle into was worth the effort. She's gotten half a dozen drinks out of guys and plenty of offers for dinner dates. Maybe she could be a professional party girl. All it would take was a group of men willing to support her lifestyle. She wouldn't be as independent as she wanted, but it was much better than being homeless and starving.
Her newest friend was placing a glass of champagne in front of her while trying to work his hand up her skirt when everything fell apart.
A new man stood in front of her on the other side of the bar and asked to speak with her. From his clothes she could tell he was wealthy, so not a bouncer. Maybe the manager, she thought. Not bad looking, either. He was tall and tanned with dark hair and eyes that bored into her soul even in the dim light of the bar.
"What do you want?"
"To speak with you for a moment." He glanced over at the man pawing at her. "In private."
"About what?"
"Look, we can do this in my office in the back or you can pay your tab and get out. You decide."
Suddenly her friend got a lot less friendly. "Don't look at me," he slurred. "I'm not paying shit."
"Then fuck off," she spat at him before turning back to the other man. "Fine. Let's go in the back."
He pointed in a direction and off they went. She tugged at her dress, the skirt barely covered her ass, and something about this man made her nervous. She hated that.
He led her through a doorway and down a hall that was much brighter than the main part of the bar. In the light she got a better look at him and was even more intimidated. He was broad-shouldered and muscular all over. While dressed casually in a button-down shirt and jeans, he was impeccable. And she noted his pants cost more than her rent for three months. He had to be the owner.
Finally he unlocked a door at the end of the hall and ushered her inside. His office was nice, but not fancy. Neat stacks of papers covered the side of the huge desk and a few boxes sat next to the chair in front of it.
"Have a seat," he said, shutting the door when she moved out of the way.
She sat and crossed her legs, shivering in the chilly air.
Instead of going around the desk he perched on the edge of it, right in front of her, and reached for a sheaf of stapled papers on the top of a pile.
"So," his eyes scanned down the paper, "Amber Lee. We have a problem."
"What is it?"
"You owe me some money."
"Oh, my tab?" She waved her hand dismissively. "I'll take care of it as soon as I can. I didn't bring a credit card tonight, but I'm good for it. Next week okay?" She uncrossed her legs and was about to stand up when his big, booming laugh startled her. Her mouth hung open as she looked up at him.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh. It's just...I almost believed that. And if I hadn't talked to owners of similar establishments all over town I'd consider giving you a chance."
Her heart sank.
"I don't know how long you've been cheating my colleagues out of their money, and I don't care. But you're not going to do it to me. Pay me the $265.34 you owe right now or I'll call the police."
Tears dripped from her eyes. "I can't," she whispered.
"No?" He knelt down in front of her, a look of genuine compassion on his face. "Why not?"
"I just lost my job and I'm about to get kicked out of my apartment. I don't even have money for groceries, let alone enough to pay you. But I swear I'll pay. Soon as I can."
He pushed back a piece of curly hair that had fallen into his eyes. Those unruly locks were such a contrast to his stern, professional demeanor that she almost smiled. Even though he was threatening her, she had to admit he was pretty hot. And loaded. An idea formed in Amber's mind.
"Look," she said. "I know you have no reason to trust me. But I'm not a crook, just going through a rough patch. What if I work off my debt here at the bar? I could hostess or help behind the bar. I don't know a lot of drink recipes, but I can run a beer tap and pour shots." As she spoke she inched her skirt up to show her upper thighs and leaned over to give a great view of her pert, full breasts. "Or maybe something in here? I could open mail or make phone calls for you." She bit the corner of her plump red lip. "I'm sure we can work something out."
The owner eyed her, a half-smile on his face. "Hmm. Perhaps. There are some things around here that could use some attention." He placed his hand on her knee and looked deep into her eyes.
Amber smiled and put her small hand over his huge one. "I bet."
His hot gaze ran up and down her body, taking in every luscious curve. "Hold on a minute. I need to make a quick call."
She smiled, crossed her legs again and fluffed her hair. "Take your time."
His eyes never left her as he went
to the other side of the desk, picked up a cell phone and dialed. She paid little attention to what he said, as her entire mind was focused on how to play him best. Obviously he wanted her. And from her pounding heart and damp panties, she wanted him too. But she wasn't a whore, ready to give it up in this room. Maybe a quick make-out session and a future date. Enough to keep him happy and wanting more.
Amber was jolted from her concentration by his voice as he came back around the desk. "Listen, something's come up. And if you want to talk about how we can solve this situation, I have an idea."
"I'm open to almost any idea," she purred.
"Good. I have a party to attend tomorrow night, a business thing really. And I hate going to these things alone. If you'd accompany me I'd consider it a great favor. And I always repay favors."
She pretended to think about it for a while and then nodded. "Works for me."
"Excellent." He reached out a hand and helped her up. As they stood close together he smiled. "Now, you'd better get home and rest. I'll pick you up at eight tomorrow night. Wear something elegant, but sexy."
* * *
Amber's doorbell rang at eight on the dot. She gave herself one last look in the mirror before heading out. As directed, her outfit was elegant and sexy. The long black satin dress hugged her body. A slit up to her thigh revealed her toned legs on strappy heels. The top of the dress draped perfectly over her abundant cleavage. Her hair was loose, sliding in sultry waves around her as she moved.
Downstairs she took a deep breath and walked to the curb where a black towncar waited. The driver opened the back door to let her in and shut it behind her. She expected to find her date inside, but it was empty except for a single glass of champagne. She drank it down in one gulp to calm her nerves and sat back for the drive.
