by Sky Corgan
“Fuck me hard,” I tell him, deciding to take full control of my fantasy.
He obliges, bracing himself and grinding into me to the point that I worry we might break the bed. I cry out, loud enough for the entire resort to hear us, and he doesn't bother trying to shush me. I absolutely love it. Love what he's doing to me. Love being here with him. Love fucking him.
The carnal part of me comes out, and I reach around, grabbing his ass and forcing him deep inside of me. The timid girl who walked into his suite is gone. All that's left is some sex-starved monster hellbent on using him to her will.
“Fuck,” he breathes, looking down on me with a hint of pleased surprise.
“I didn't say you could stop.”
He takes the challenge with a smirk that could melt the panties off any woman, and he completely ravages my pussy with that gorgeous cock of his, pumping so hard that the sheer friction between us causes me to explode into orgasm all over again. I lay below him, breathless, and his body finally gives out. I feel him still inside of me, see him tremble ever so slightly as his balls empty. And then he collapses on top of me, panting like he has just run a marathon.
I hold him to me, staring up at the ceiling, reveling in the feel of his muscular body on top of mine totally spent. I normally hate sweat, but the small sheen that has covered his body feels earned. I like that I worked him hard and put him away wet.
He rolls off of me, and we lay there side by side for a while as he catches his breath. The needy romantic in me wants to cuddle. Now that the fucking is over, the confident side of me recoils into the shadows. I'm proud of myself for being so assertive, but a bit embarrassed at the same time. I've never acted like this before, but it was certainly a fun change.
He sits up and almost immediately starts dressing. It takes everything in me to hide my disappointment. Whether I want to admit it or not, this is my queue that it's time to go. It's still midday, and Anders has another client tonight. That thought leaves a foul taste in my mouth.
“So I'll see you again on Thursday,” he says casually.
“Thursday,” I hesitate. “No, I think not.”
“Why not?” He casts a glance at me over his shoulder while he pulls on one of his loafers.
“I told you already. I'm relieving you of your duty to pleasure me,” I say as professionally as possible.
“What if I don't want to be relieved?”
“I'm the client. I don't really think you have a choice,” I try not to sound rude, but it comes out that way anyway.
“Did you not like it? The sex?”
“No. It's not that.”
“Of course, it's not. You loved the sex. I can tell.” He continues putting on his other shoe. The arrogant sound of his words almost makes me want to laugh. I hate it when men know they're good. I suppose it can't be helped in this case though. I mean, the guy gets paid to have sex. Or rather, he has sex for the sake of charity.
“I don't see why it matters.” I tie on my bikini top. “There's no gain in this for you. And besides, if I relieve you, that means you can pick up another client, so it's more money for your charity.”
“I already told you, I don't want another client.”
“Then you can take the time off.”
He stands and faces me, giving me what appears to be a sincere look. “Tessa, is it so hard to believe that I want you?”
My cheeks flush from his words, but I refuse to buy into his bullshit. “Just take the month off, okay.”
He crosses the distance between us, caressing my cheek and looking down into my eyes. Damn, he's good looking. “I don't want the month off. I don't want another woman. I want more time with you. More sex with you. Please don't deny me that.”
My heart is racing again. My mind is telling me to say no, but all I can manage to say is, “Okay.”
CHAPTER THREE
Late Sixties is by the pool again. I take the lounger beside her, thankful that Mister Pool Boy isn't out and about to harass me. Today, Mister Maintenance Man is on duty trimming the hedges around the resort. He seems less interested in sticking his dick in a client and much more focused on his work. While I'm pretty sure that all the men here are meant to pleasure us, some seem more into it than others. Whatever the case, I'm glad for the peace and quiet.
I stretch out on my back beneath the California sun, lather on some suntan lotion, and pick up my ereader. Today is all about relaxing and getting over the sore feeling between my legs. It's amazing how those muscles seem to get worked only during sex.
I'm halfway through a chapter when I hear a scratchy female voice say, “How was he?”
I turn to see Late Sixties looking straight at me. Her lined face doesn't seem very amused.
“How was who?” I ask.
“Your man. I haven't had that one before.”
For some reason, that makes me feel relieved. “He was awesome. How was yours?”
“You mean my billionaire or the pool boy?” Her thin lips quirk into an infectious smirk.
“The pool boy.” I can't help but grin as my curiosity becomes piqued. It's a no-brainer that the billionaires are good.
“Fabulous, darling. Absolutely fabulous. That pool net isn't the only pole he's good with.” She winks at me.
“Oh my God, you're hilarious,” I can't hide my laughter.
“What? I'm old, honey; I'm not dead.” She swings her feet over the side of her lounger and extends her hand to me. “I'm Stephanie Beck, real estate mogul extraordinaire,” she says the title in a way that I can't tell if she's being serious or making fun of herself.
I sit up as well, gingerly shaking her hand. “I'm Tessa Murphy, the fabulously unemployed.”
“Fabulously unemployed,” she huffs, the same sound I heard yesterday. This time I can definitely tell it's from amusement. “You must have a rich stupid husband.”
“No.” I shake my head. “A rich generous friend.”
“Must be nice. If I could have come here at your age, these billionaires would be paying me for sex, not the other way around.” She turns and leans back on her lounger, fanning herself with her hand. I can picture her being a knockout when she was younger. She has high cheek bones and stunning blue eyes. There's nothing not confident about this woman, sitting here in a white one-piece with circle cut outs in the sides. Even at close to seventy, her body is better than a lot of girls my age.
“So which one is yours?” I ask timidly, enjoying the conversation.
“Blondie.”
“Is that his name?”
“No. That's what I call him though, because his name doesn't matter.”
I like this woman more and more by the second. There's a liveliness about her that's refreshing.
“You probably have the one my friend was telling me about. I didn't actually get to go to the consultation, so I didn't see all the men they have to offer. She said there's a blonde one that's really dreamy though.”
“They're all dreamy. Young muscled things with big cocks.”
Her words make me blush, and I instantly think about Anders' dick—how it felt inside of me. My legs press together, and I feel the familiar soreness. Part of me can't wait until Thursday. The more logical part of me thinks that sleeping with him again is a bad idea.
“Do you come here a lot?” I ask.
“Every year for the past five years. And every year, I get a different man.” She smiles, not embarrassed at all by her confession.
“It doesn't bother you that they sleep with other women?” my voice is timid, and I know I sound ridiculous.
“Heavens no. Everyone that works here has been tested. All the clients are tested. We're all here for the same thing.”
For some reason, I feel comfortable talking to this woman. I want to open up to Evelyn about how the whole experience has made me feel, but I don't want her to think I'm ungrateful. While I did enjoy sleeping with Anders, the knowledge that he'll be in that same bed with another woman tonight greatly bothers me. I don't
really think I want to sleep with him again. Once was enough of an adventure for me. He didn't want to take no for an answer, but this is supposed to be all about me. I paid for the experience. Well, Evelyn paid for it. Either way, I'm the client. My wants should trump his desires. And I really don't feel like spending an entire month bedding a man who plays Russian Roulette with his penis.
“It's hot, and I'm bored. Would you fancy going shopping with me?” Stephanie asks, drawing me away from my thoughts.
“Shopping?”
“Yes. That thing were you give people money for stuff you want.”
“Oh. Yeah. Shopping. Great,” I reply, feeling like an idiot.
We part ways to go to our rooms and change, then we meet back up downstairs where she has a limo waiting for us. It feels a bit extravagant for a shopping trip, but I try not to say anything, soaking up the experience and thanking her for inviting me along.
We end up at Union Square where Stephanie drags me from store to store, spending money like it's going out of style. She offers to buy me some things, but I refuse, feeling spoiled enough already just from the limo ride. She calls me a 'fuddy-duddy' for refusing her, and I can't help but laugh. I'm having a great time. It's amazing going to all of these stores I could never afford to shop at and watching Stephanie boss around the employees. She walks around like the world is her oyster, and she's not afraid to bitch about the pearl.
We shop until the sun sets, and then we settle in at a little coffee shop. I'm absolutely exhausted, my arms aching from carrying some of Stephanie's bags, since she bought way too much to carry on her own. Maybe that's why she really invited me to go shopping with her, so that she'd have an extra set of arms. I consider teasing her about it, but I'm not sure how she'll react, so I keep my mouth shut.
“No Blondie tonight?” I decide to ask her instead.
“Tomorrow night. And boy am I ready for him.”
“You have more energy than me.”
“I doubt that.” She quirks a sculpted eyebrow.
“Well, you just seem like it, at least.”
“And what about you and yours? When's your next day?”
“Thursday, but I think I'm going to pass.” I blow the steam off my coffee.
“Good heavens why?”
“It kind of bugs me that he sleeps with other people. I mean, I know that's what I came here for. I know that's what The Billionaires Club is all about, but I'm not really into that.”
“Then why did you sign up?”
“I didn't sign up. My best friend signed me up because she thought it would be something I'd enjoy. I didn't really have any choice in the matter.”
“Didn't you enjoy it, when the two of you were together I mean?”
“Well, yeah. But it's going to keep bothering me that he's sleeping with other people.”
“Why?”
“Because I'm a one-man woman.”
She guffaws, “If you're looking for love, then you've come to the wrong place.”
“I know, and I'm not really looking for love. But I don't want the sex either. I think I just want to relax for the rest of the month. Once I get back, I'm going to have to start job hunting. This was kind of my go-between from college and the working world.”
“A college kid, huh?” she huffs. “I figured you were young.”
“Not as young as you might think. I got a late start.”
“Well, you're finished now. That's all that matters, right?”
“Exactly.” I nod in agreement.
“Listen, Tessa, you seem like a sweet girl, so I'm going to give you a bit of advice.” She stirs her coffee, looking dignified. “We only have a short time on this planet, and only a small percentage of it is actually enjoyable. You're young. You have plenty of time to find a man and fall in love. You also have plenty of time to collect regrets. Don't make wasting your time here one of them.”
“What do you mean?” I shift uncomfortably in my seat.
“Coming to The Billionaires Club is probably a once in a lifetime event for you. Maybe you'll never sleep with a stranger again after this. But while you're here, enjoy the experience for what it is.
“Being with one of these men, it's not like picking up some random guy off the street. They care about their bodies. They care about their reputations. And they care about pleasing women. That's all they care about. You're in a safe controlled environment where you can have fun and let your inhibitions go free. Take advantage of it.
“Put your real life aside for a month. It will be there when you get back. Live in the fantasy now, because soon it will be over, and you'll regret it if you don't make the most of it. You might not believe me now, but trust me when I tell you that I'm right. Don't realize it when it's already too late.”
***
It's Thursday night, and I'm in Anders' suite on my knees taking everything Stephanie said to heart. I'm also taking Anders' cock into my mouth, sucking it like it's the last dick I'll ever see.
Timid Tessa went away, and carnal Tessa came out to play. Almost the second we stepped into the elevator together, I took the initiative to be the aggressor. I had his dick out of his pants before we even reached the top floor, not caring who saw us on camera or if the elevator stopped before we reached our destination. He seemed blown away by my new-found fervor. Now he's just getting blown.
“Holy shit,” he pants as he grabs a fistful of my hair. His back is pressed against the front door of his suite. That's as far as I allowed him to go before I took what I wanted.
I use only my mouth to pleasure him, glancing up into his eyes now and then as I bob back and forth, feeling him swell in my mouth. He mumbles from time to time about how good it is, but he never presses me for more, giving me full control.
I cup his heavy balls in one hand and start stroking him with the other, squeezing and milking him into my mouth. He rewards me with the first drop of pre-seed. He smells and tastes exquisite, just like a man should. I find myself getting lost in sucking him off. Never before have I wanted to please a man so badly, to impress one so badly. I'm sure a thousand women have sucked his dick before, but I want this time to be memorable. I have to make it memorable. I don't want him to forget me.
“You look so sexy,” he tells me as he brushes my hair away from my face.
I sit back and flick my tongue across the tip, then ring it around the ridges of his cock head before taking him into my mouth again and moaning. The sound seems to reverberate through him, and he matches it with a groan of his own.
“Your cock tastes so good,” I whisper against his sensitive glans before plunging him to the back of my throat.
“Fuck.” His hands are in my hair again, and I can tell it's taking everything in him not to force me down on his cock.
“Do it,” I beg him. “You know you want to fuck my face.”
It's all the invitation he needs. I sit back and enjoy the ride as he renders my jaw every bit as sore as he made my pussy. His hands are on both sides of my head, forcing his meaty length down my throat. I love it when he takes control like this, when he loses himself completely. In these brief moments, I feel like he truly belongs to me.
My gag reflex goes off, and I silently curse myself for being so inexperienced. Sucking cock has never really been something I've craved. But somehow, with Anders, it's different. Ever since that first night, I've wanted him in every hole I have. The thought of making him come absolutely thrills me.
“Yeah baby,” I mumble around his thickness as I feel him painting the back of my throat with more of his pre-seed.
“Fuck yeah,” he breaths, his voice full of lust.
His breathing is absolutely ragged, and I know he's about reached his limit. He bucks into me a few more times before pulling away and releasing his load on the wall next to me. I feel like one of those people at the circus who has to stand still while knives are being thrown at them. Briefly, I wonder why he didn't come in my mouth.
“Holy shit.” He places his hand agai
nst the wall and braces himself while the last few drops leave his gorgeous little slit. I lean forward and lap them up, licking him clean. “You're so fucking amazing.”
“I would have let you come in my mouth, you know.” I pout up at him as if I'm disappointed that he didn't.
“It said on your sheet that you don't swallow.”
That one sentence brings me back down to earth, pulls me completely out of the fantasy. I remember that I'm his client, not his lover. Tomorrow, another woman will be on her knees in front of him.
The thought sends unpleasant emotion racing through me, and for as much as I promised myself I'd live in the moment, that I'd enjoy everything The Billionaires Club has to offer, that moment has passed. Now all I can think about are my own morals and why this was a horrible idea.
“You gave me mine, now I'm going to give you yours,” he tells me, a devilish smirk twisting his perfect lips. He's so ridiculously handsome that I feel myself melting again. But I can't let that happen. This. Being with him. It's slowly chipping away at me. I can't keep doing this.
“This is all I want tonight,” I say firmly, standing and placing my hand against his chest to push him away.
“But it's not all I want,” he says, pulling me into his arms to kiss a trail across my jaw. He's so strong that it's hard to resist him.
“I thought this was all about me?”
“It is all about you.” He pushes the straps of my dress over and down my shoulder, beckoning my breasts to pop out.
“And I said I'm done for the night. You should save your energy for tomorrow's girl,” my tone is injected with bitterness.
“I have plenty of energy left for you.” He continues to kiss my neck, and each touch of his lips is absolutely heavenly. Why does everything he does have to feel so good?
“Stop. Just stop,” I say finally.
He looks up at me, and his expression is confused. “Why? What's wrong?”
“I really don't think I can do this anymore.” I push the straps of my dress back up and then wrap my arms around myself protectively.
