The Billionaire's Dark Lady (2 page)

To make it a little less suspicious in case another neighbor was watching, I wore my summer-weight cheerleading jacket. Our school's colors were red and white (I'm sure that that was one reason my ex bought me that thong), so it set off my black hair and I thought I looked pretty good.

There!

My bra and panties might not match, but at least I had some sort of consistency in my outfit.

Once I was dressed, I gathered my keys and wallet. Just before I walked out the door, I hesitated. Turning back to my bedroom, I grabbed a little cotton sundress out of the closet and stuffed it into an old brown leather purse, along with some fresh underwear and a toothbrush - perhaps I'd end up staying the night at his house.

After making short work of the run to his house, I rang the doorbell, shifting my weight from foot to foot out and biting my lip. It had been a long time since I had been anything near this nervous.

My neighbor opened the door. He was wearing a white oxford shirt and a pair of designer jeans. My pulse quickened as I stared at how the shirt pulled over his muscular chest and the pants clung to his strong legs.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked.

"Never surer," I said, trying to appear confident.

He stepped backwards into the house, pulling the door open for me. I stepped over the threshold, knowing that when I crossed it again, I would no longer be a virgin. I walked into the living room as I had done a hundred times before, still attempting to be confident and in control here.

"Go ahead and put your purse on the chair," he said. "The first order of business is to discuss your punishment."

I dropped my leather purse on the armchair, startled. Normally I would take greater care with the furniture in this house, which was all nicer than what I was used to at home. I didn't speak, though. My mouth had gone dry and I had no idea what I would say.

"I'm big on punishment for mistakes, but I'm also big on rewarding good behavior," he continued. "I think you know me well enough to know that I like to be in control. Normally I would address this differently with a partner, but I know perfectly well that if I implied and hinted as I normally do, you'd have no idea what I was talking about."

He was right. Punishment? Discipline?

"I look for several things in a sexual partner," he went on, holding up one finger "Firstly, beauty and intelligence. You've got that in spades, I'm not worried there. You're young, fit, attractive, and bright."

I blushed a little, pleased that he thought me so attractive.

He lifted another finger. "Secondly, I look for manners and habits. Are they pleasant to spend time with? Would I be embarrassed to be seen with them in public?"

He smiled at me. "Well? Do you think you meet that criteria?"

"Um, I don't think you would have kept spending time with me if I didn't. You invited me over to your house, you gave me a spare key a few months ago... if you didn't like me, why would you have done that?"

"Very good!" he said. He reached out and put a finger underneath my chin, gently lifting my face up and holding my eyes with his own.

"The third thing I look for," he said, no longer bothering with holding up his fingers to count, "is total obedience."

I frowned.

"What do you mean?" I asked quietly.

"Have you heard of BDSM? Sadomasochism? Blindfolds and handcuffs?" he asked.

I blushed even harder.

"I've heard of them, I guess. I don't know much about them. Some guys get off on hurting girls?" I asked. "It doesn't sound very nice to me."

"It's more complicated than that," he said. "However, you do have the general idea. The combination of sex and authority, pain and pleasure. It's a very old kink, and one that I wholeheartedly subscribe to. I am only interested in a sexual partner that shares my interest."

"Do you want to tie me up?" I asked.

He laughed, and pulled his hand away from my face.

"Right now, I want to punish you a little for not waiting like I told you to, and I want to let you know what you're getting into if you stay."

He reached out again and cupped my face in both of his hands. The feeling of his skin against my own gave me a shiver of desire, and I could feel my nipples start to grow hard against my bra.

"You can always leave," he said. "I don't want to do anything you don't want me to. I will always stop, do you understand me?"

I nodded, and he took his hands away.

Carefully, gently, slowly, he leaned down and pressed his mouth against mine. I moaned softly as he deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me tight against him to feel the heat of his body as I relaxed in his arms.

Keeping one hand firmly around my back, he reached down with his other hand and squeezed my firm little ass.

I shivered again and leaned against him.

When he had me totally melted, unsteady on my feet, needing his strong arms for support, he pulled away. I stumbled a little and placed a hand on his chest to steady my feet.

He grinned down at me.

“All right, let’s go to breakfast!” he said. “I’m definitely hungry, and I bet you haven’t eaten.”

I blinked.

“Wait, I thought…” I began, “I thought we were going to…”

“You thought I was going to take you, here and now, at nine o’clock in the morning?” he asked. “I told you I was going to punish you, and here is your sentence - you have to wait for me to touch you again.”

CHAPTER THREE

We ate an amazing breakfast at a local restaurant where there was soft music playing and white cloths on the tables even at this early hour, where I was served orange juice in a crystal glass and they called us “Mr. Hill” and “madam.” I don’t think, before that breakfast, I’d really paid attention to how wealthy this man was.

I’d only seen breakfasts like that in movies, I didn’t even know that there was a restaurant in our town that would serve something so fancy. It threw me off guard a little, but he said he was happy to take me out and show me off.

When I got back to his house, I sat across from him on a comfortable sofa in his living room.

“Is… is my punishment over?” I asked, my voice coming out in an uncertain whisper.

He leaned down and kissed me, an unhurried and gentle press of his lips against mine.

“Oh, I think so,” he said.

"What would you like me to do?" I asked.

"Well," he replied, "I would love to feel your mouth on my cock."

I nodded, slowly. If that was what this man who had done so much for me and been so kind wanted me to do, I would try. I was frightened of the newness of it all, but I wanted to touch him and I wanted to please him.

Slowly, never breaking eye contact with me, he stood up to his full commanding height and unbuckled his pants and pushed them down to reveal bright red silk boxers straining to contain his erection. Once he'd stepped out of his pants, he did the same to the boxers and sat down on the couch.

Naked, the hard bulge I had felt when I sat in his lap was revealed, and it proved to be a monster cock. The first time I saw it, my brain exaggerated it to the size of my forearm.
Surely this wouldn’t fit inside me,
I thought.

I had never sucked a cock before, and his was so big! I wanted to please him, to satisfy him, but I was afraid to put such an enormous shaft in my mouth. I knew I couldn't swallow it all the way down, like I'd heard some girls did when blowing their boyfriends. This wasn’t some boy’s rod, this was a man’s heavy shaft and there wasn't enough room in my throat for a giant pole like his.

"Easy," he said.

He reached out and took my hand.

"I know this isn't something you've encountered before," he said.

"It's so big," I whispered, eyes wide.

" Why don't you start just by touching it?" he asked, and pulled me gently over to him by my hand.

"On your knees, that will make it easier," he said, with a sharper tug on my hand in his.

I knelt by the edge of the couch and he let go of my hand. Carefully, I reached out and stroked one finger down the shaft, from the purple mushroom head down to the root, buried in a forest of thick pubic hair.

His cock twitched with the touch, and I gasped and drew my hand back from it. I looked up at my friend to make sure I'd done the right thing.

He smiled kindly at me and told me that his cock wouldn't break, I could touch it more firmly.

Okay,
I thought to myself,
This is it. This is when I suck my first cock.

I wrapped my hand around the base of his cock, taking care to be gentle, but increasing the pressure and grasping it a little more confidently.

As I opened my mouth and leaned forward, I shut my eyes and breathed in the rich scent of him. I leaned forward until my tongue was touching the underside of the head of his cock, licking off the bead of pre-cum glistening there with a flick of my tongue.

The taste of him was not what I'd expected. My friends at school had told me that their boyfriends tasted bitter and salty, sucking cock totally grossed them out.

He tasted salty, yes, but not unpleasantly so.

I adjusted my hand on his shaft and leaned forward, taking his cockhead into my mouth and flicking my tongue against the underside, licking away the precum as it appeared.

Carefully, I sucked on the heavy organ in my mouth. I stopped flicking my tongue and began running it in circles around the head.

My neighbor reached his hand down and wrapped it around my own, slowly moving it up and down his thick shaft, from my lips to the root. After three long strokes, he let go of my hand.

"Keep stroking," he said quietly.

How could I disobey a command like that, when I was enjoying feeling how hot and strong the shaft in my hand was? I was pleased to have made him so hard, pleased to have him ready and willing to fuck my mouth.

After I got used to the feeling of just the tip of his cock in my mouth, I started bobbing my head a little bit, spreading my saliva along his length, my hand and my mouth meeting in the middle.

I tried to take him too deeply into my mouth and choked a little.

"Easy," he said. His voice, already deep, was even lower than normal, with an edge of raspiness that turned my knees to jelly. "Don't hurt yourself, now."

I opened my eyes and looked up at him, meeting his gaze. He was smiling at me and I smiled back - could he see that, with my mouth full of his cock?

Shutting my eyes, I returned to my task, focusing on the softness of his skin and the musky smell of him, the comforting warmth of his body. All of this was turning me on like I'd never been before, I could feel tingles in my nipples and below, a fire burning that I didn't know how to put out.

"I'm going to put my hand on your head," he said.

I nodded, still focusing on his cock and the feelings it was stirring me.

His large hand wrapped around the base of my skull and tangled into my hair, careful not to pull the strands.

He didn't force his cock deeper into my mouth, but he did apply a gentle pressure, speeding up my pace and setting the rhythm that worked for him.

It was pleasant, not to have to think about how to suck his cock to simply enjoy the feelings and have him set the rhythm.

I reached down with one hand and started rubbing myself through the thick khaki fabric of my miniskirt, in an effort to relieve the ache that was building there.

He stopped and took his hand off of the back of my head, pulling his cock slowly out of my mouth. I stopped rubbing myself for a moment, a little captivated by the long strand of saliva and precum that stretched from the slit on the head of his shaft to my mouth.

He chuckled and I blushed and hastily wiped my mouth on the back of my hand.

"Do you need some attention?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said. I paused, and I could feel the blush spreading across my cheeks. "I was enjoying what we were doing just fine."

Oh. Perhaps he wanted to move on and have sex now.

"Do you want to, um, do you want to go up to bed?" I knew where his bedroom was, I'd glimpsed the large wooden bed through the open door before. Was I ready to go to bed with him, though?

"Kiara," he said, "I don't expect you to have sex with me today. It's a big step, and you've never even touched a cock before today, have you?"

I tried to shuffle my feet, but I had knelt to have better access to my task. I squirmed, though, and hung my head a little.

"I didn't think so," he said.

He held his hand out to me and I took it without hesitation. With a tender touch and a warm smile, he used it to pull me to my feet.

"I think we need to talk," he said.

I groaned.

"Even I know that that's bad news," I said.

He laughed, then, a rich baritone chuckle, and hugged me around the shoulders. I marveled again, as I had for the past two years, that this man would be so kind to me. Even when he laughed, he included me in the joke, he never simple laughed at me or made me feel foolish.