Maid for the Millionaire (3 page)

Reaching out, he took his hand in mine. My mouth fell agape as the electricity danced across my fingertips.

“Mr. Carawell... Can I ask you a question?”

He nodded.

“You were really once like him? He did call you a hypocrite...”

Exaspering
slightly, he let go of my hand and stared out the window. It was if his next words were the most important in the world.

“I’m not proud of where I am now, but I’m still less proud of where I was. Yes, April, I was not a nice person. I was abusive, disrespectful,
terrible. I thought it all was the normalcy of this cutthroat industry. Well, I suppose it is the normalcy. As you unfortunately saw earlier this evening. These monsters think themselves untouchable."

"But what about you and your wife?
Were you really like that when you met Mrs. Carawell?"

Chuckling slightly, Mr.
Carawell continued.

"Scarlet is just like them. Riding the contrails of success, no matter what the vilification entails. I've been trying to free myself for years now. But alas, my career is the only thing I have time to dedicate now."

His words. They seemed so sad. In an instant my attitude towards him changed from intimidated to pity. I couldn't bear to see such a powerful man in such an intimate state of mind. Even more, I couldn't bear not to do something about it.

"Mr.
Carawell... Can I ask you one more question?"

Taking his time in answering, Mr.
Carawell spoke.

"Only one."

"Is there anything I can do for you? Beyond my usual duties, that is. You saved me tonight. I want to return the favor."

As the words left my mouth I placed my hand on his thigh, rubbing with the lightest of touches. This world I adopted myself into still felt foreign. I couldn't handle an expensive dinner party or clean a mansion to perfection just yet. But I could satisfy a man I was attracted to. My mind raced as he didn't back down from my advance. Sure, he was my boss, but he was also
a intelligent, powerful, handsome man. Sure, he was married, but he had just confessed the relationship had been dead for years. I couldn't help myself as my hands rubbed along the fabric of his pants. Smiling gently at his bewildered face. Yet still he didn't say to stop.

Taking his silence as an invitation to proceed, my hands danced towards the front of his pants. A noticeable bulge had already begun to form. I licked my lips in anticipation. Loosening his belt, I looked up at his eyes.

"Please Victor. Let me take care of you tonight."

I felt his hand on the back of my head, caressing it lovingly. My eyes closed at the sensation of him playing with my hair. Victor was so careful and delicate, like I was a fine work of art he was taking in. Deep under my skirt I felt my womanhood grow warm with desire. The back of my mind still screamed with doubts as to if this was right. I shut that voice out immediately.

Kneeling down on the chair in front of him, my fingers still gently circled the tracing of his member. It already felt like it was growing by this lightest of touches. I looked up into his eyes, putting on the sexiest look of pleading I had in me. Mr. Carawell stayed deadpan. Was he confused? Was he conflicted? I tilted my head to the side, licking my bottom lip seductively. It worked.

Taking my hand in his, Mr.
Carawell led me to his belt buckle. It came off easily enough, and with astonishing speed I had his pants around his ankles. Still keeping the deadpan expression, he stared at me diligently. As if waiting impatiently for me to initiate. I had been bold so far in this tryst, but my heart still felt like it was going to explode. Still I hid it well, smiling gently as I feed his cock from the restrictions of his underwear. There, I couldn't help but get a good look.

Mr.
Carawell's penis was half-erect at this point. I was still impressed and a little frightened. It was true that I had small hands, but I could barely get my middle finger to overlap around his girth. The length wasn't too shabby either: seven, possibly eight inches. There was a scary second when I wondered if I could take all of it in my mouth. That fear quickly turned to excitement as I started pumping the shaft with my hand. It pulsated with every stroke, growing bigger and bigger until I couldn't stand it anymore. I needed Mr. Carawell's cock in my mouth. I needed to make my millionaire employer come.

Biting my lip in nervousness, I slowly lowered my head deeper between his thighs. Mr.
Carawell placed his hands on my back of my head. Guiding me towards the manhood I so desperately craved. It smelled surprisingly pleasant down there; a rich musky scent that reminded me of expensive aftershave. I decided to have a little tease first. Kiss the tip of the head. Dart my tongue along the bottom run of the shaft. Look deeply into his eyes as I stroked it with my hand. Surprisingly, Mr. Carawell still looked unfazed. Prior boyfriends at this point were always frenzied, begging me for more stimulation. Like the rest of his lifestyle, was he used to something more luxurious? Still, he wasn't asking me to stop. I felt a growing desire in me to impress. To perform better than I ever had before. Nothing but the best for Mr. Carawell.

I started slow, enveloping his head entirely within my lips. I refused to move for several seconds, instead circling my tongue, making sure there wasn't a single
unstimulated nerve. He placed his hand on my back of my head again. Not pushing or forcing, simply placing it gently. I took this as a good sign and increased the intensity of my work. Bobbing slightly up and down. Moaning gently as I did so. The smell of Mr. Carawell's cock was incredible, and he tasted even better. Never before in my life had I wanted to suck a penis so intently. As I continued to bob and use my tongue to explore new territory, I felt subtle signs of the effectiveness of my work. Increased breathing. Tighter muscles. An actual grip on my hair. And of course, the fact that his dick had grown rock-hard inside my mouth. To pat myself on the back, I was sucking better than I ever had in my life.

There was a gentle tug on my hair. Taking his member out with a gentle pop, I moved my head back to meet his gaze. There was a tiny strand of saliva running down my chin and a happy smile on my face. Mr.
Carawell gave me one simple order.

"Deeper, April.
Take it all the way in."

As I glanced down at the immense member under my chin I doubted I could.

"Sir, I..."

"No words, April. Ease into it."

Emotions ran through me. Doubt, at my own abilities. Fear at his directness. Anger, at his disregard for my own feelings. What won them all was desire. Deepthroating had never been something I was good at. It was time to learn. What better time to practice than now?

"Of course, Mr.
Carawell."

Looking once again at the cock I had been so diligently sucking, my perception changed. What once had been warm and
inviting, now seemed like a mountain to climb. A test of my abilities. A chance to go beyond my limits. I took his penis in my mouth and moved down as far as I could. Slowly, gently. It was still only halfway. I loosened my jaw the best I could, relaxed my muscles. But this was all I could do. I once again felt Mr. Carawell's hands on my back of my head.

"Relax, April. I have no doubt you can."

To my surprise, he began pushing on the back of my head. With any other man I would have been enraged. But I couldn't say no to Mr. Carawell. Instead I took his forcefulness as motivation, support for this endeavor. A miraculous thing happened. I felt the back of my throat loosen up. I was able to lower myself even more. It was an incredible, satisfying sensation to feel his cock hit the back of my throat. With his hands as forceful support, I managed to get every last inch of his penis inside me. It stayed like that for a few seconds as I breathed through my nose. Mr. Carawell stroked my hair.

"Good girl..."

That was all the support I needed to continue. Dragging my lips along his shaft, I moved my mouth back up to the tip of his penis. Without even taking a break I went back down to the hilt. It was easier the second time, once my mouth had loosened up. Soon enough I was back to a frantic speed, sucking and licking with an unfound desire. Mr. Carawell's reactions stayed the same; slight affirmations of pleasure but overall commanding. In a way, it turned me on even more. It made me feel used, submissive. Like I was only a toy to him. With any other man I would have found it degrading. But with Mr. Carawell... I was proud to be his slut.

There was no warning when he came.
Only an increased grip on my hair and the salty tase of semen down my throat. I had been working the head with my tongue when it happened, so I quickly took the entire shaft down to his waist as the ropes of cum landed deep within me. To be honest, I didn't even register much of the taste. It was my duty to please Mr. Carawell, and I felt nothing but satisfaction from making him orgasm.

Mr.
Carawell lifted me up by the chin after he was finished. I was breathing more than he was. Giving a smile, I spoke.

"Did I do well?"

He smiled.

"Oh April.
We're not done yet. On the bed. On your back."

I was hoping he would say that. Obeying diligently, I laid on the bed as he took the belt from his pants on the floor. The familiar feeling of discomfort ran and was quickly shut out of my mind. Just think, I told myself. An hour ago I thought would be on the streets. Now I was preparing to have sex with an attractive millionaire. So what if he was a little rough? As evidenced by how wet I was, I was enjoying how commanding and intimidating he was. I loved how he took charge, how I was purely there to be used for his benefit. The feeling was liberating, in a way. No emotions. No feelings.
Just pure, raw sex.

Mr.
Carawell lifted my hands above my head; tying my wrists to the bedframe with his belt. I cooed and squirmed seductively, echoing my desire to be fucked as he slowly took off his clothes with professionalism. Each button on his dress shirt meant another second I had to wait. The anticipation just about killed me. Finally, he was naked, erect, and glaring at me hungrily. It was time.

The world stopped as he penetrated me. Goosebumps lit up all over my skin. I felt every last inch of his penis slide into me at a savored pace. Mr.
Carawell had his eyes closed. Mine were starry-eyed, rolling back in my head as I arched my back. It felt entirely unlike any other man I had been with. Something about the suddenness of the situation, the power he wielded over me, the girth of his dick. It all combined to a feeling that satisfied my massive pent-up frustration. He stayed like that a while, cock buried deep inside me. He probably wanted to fully enjoy the sensation before moving on. I didn’t mind.

As his hips moved back and forth my breathing quickened as well. I had to keep as quiet as
possible, there were other maids and butlers through these walls and passing by outside my door. But as his pace increased I couldn’t help but moan quietly. Back and forth, feeling the entire length of his cock move in and out of me. There was a very precise motion he was carrying himself with. He hit just the right distance before plunging back in, controlled his breathing as a professional runner would. Just as I was wishing my hands weren’t tied so I could rub them all over his bulky chest and back, he kissed me.

More specifically, he kissed my neck.
Buried his face in the crux of it, biting in lightly. While the combined feeling of goosebumps and being tickled spread across my face, Mr. Carawell started to quicken the pace. His strokes were no longer cold and calculated. They were more frenzied, as if he had tested the waters and was now giving into his desire. The heat that radiated from his body was powerful. His breath filled my ear as he fucked me. I moved my head for a kiss on his lips. Almost as if predicting my movement, he ran his tongue downwards towards my chest. Licking and sucking on my breasts as his penis continued to fill me. A little disappointing, but the sensations ran through my body like lighting. I couldn’t help it, my moans grew louder throughout the room.

At some point while he was trusting from up top, he had managed to unhook the belt from my wrists. I didn’t even notice my hands falling down to the pillow until he dismounted me. In my chest my heart was pounding wildly. The room already reeked of sex. Looking at Mr.
Carawell, his eyes wandered over every last inch of my ruffled uniform. I ran my fingertips over his chest, glistening with the sweat of a good fuck. My womanhood ached with the craving of his cock. Some might even say it was painful. Mr. Carawell knew this; the way he looked at me confirmed he enjoyed my anticipation. He loved the tease. He loved having this control over me.

“On top.
Now.”

With a hold on my wrist I was dragged out of the bed. Mr.
Carawell sat back down on the chair, myself straddling him precariously. I looked into his eyes. Eager. Yearning. Burning. From his eyes I felt far from the same. I felt pride in his eyes. Power. Desire. With his left hand he grabbed my hair in one fell clump. I buried my head in his neck and lowered myself gracefully. My skirt spilled over his legs as I impaled myself on his cock once more.

This was a different sensation entirely. As each inch entered me my arms tensed up, wrapped around his shoulders. In my ear I felt the heat of his breath caress gently. Mr.
Carawell placed his hands on my hips, yet I still controlled the pace. For now. Another few seconds and he was completely buried inside me. The room was silent except for my gentle breathing. I took my hands and placed them on his shoulders, feeling the power of his muscles under my fingertips. I began to move.