Smothered (2 page)

"Straddle me," he barked.

Lila put a foot on each side of his hips.

"Higher," he barked again.

She stepped forward and he snaked his arms along his sides so that she straddled them, as well. When she was even with his chest, he ordered her to stop. She started to lower her body.

"Not yet," he groaned. "Spread your pussy lips."

She did, waiting, not sure what had to happen before he gave her permission to sit.

Aroused as she was, a fat, translucent drop amassed on the edge of one labia, its weight finally too much for the laws of liquid suspension. It dropped, hitting him center of his chest. He twitched, moaned. His hand flew to his chest for a second to smear her juice against his skin.

"Now," he begged.

She sat, her weight supported on her legs. She watched the fabric against his face still in anticipation, but she kept most of her mass off him. Certainly he didn't want her to injure him?

"Sit -- don't hover!"

Shocked by the rough command, Lila sank hard and fast, knocking the wind out of her ex-boss. He sucked air in, her wet panties suctioning against his mouth. The tip of his tongue poked at them and her pussy twitched with want. Leaning forward, she uncovered his face and looked into his unflinching gaze.

She remembered how she would quake in fear when Warren made one of his monthly tours through the data division. She had been certain that one look at her body and Mr. Health Nut would fire her on the spot. All that time, he'd had this secret, one he couldn't even put into words.

Lila pressed her palms and plump fingers against his cheeks. His lips parted and he closed his eyes, his entire expression serene despite the flushed cheeks and darkened lips. Lowering her head a little more, Lila sniffed his face, power thrumming inside her as she smelled her drying juices on his skin.

All that time this dirty little secret had been bottled up inside him.

Only "little" was entirely wrong. He could have a harem of size twos straddling him. He had sought Lila out, a dangerous thing to do when she had every reason to seek revenge by exposing him. Or did he think she was too timid to turn on him?

"Don't stop," he whispered.

Leaning back, she worked her hand between their bodies to part the plump folds of her labia. He had liked it when that fat drop of juice landed on him. She would give him a small lake of arousal. Never before had she been so wet with a partner. Fisting her hand between her labia, she rode one knuckle against her clit. A moan shuddered from him and another as she squirmed on his chest, making his skin slick and sticky.

He swallowed, almost choking on his lust as he pleaded. "More."

Staring into his gray eyes, Lila scooted until her ass was over his abdominal muscles and the hairs of her cunt brushed center of his chest, just below the line of his nipples. Arching her back, she rubbed her breasts against the cream she'd left on him until they glistened with a thin sheen of wetness. Tilting forward, she pressed her stomach against him. Her breasts covered his face. Squeezing them together to trap his head, she started to wiggle.

She wiggled and wiggled, hearing him moan and groan. His hips lifted, fucking the stale air of her decrepit trailer. She wiggled some more, squirming and pressing until his nails dragged against the full flesh of her ass.

Lila lifted -- Warren gasped. She allowed him another gasp and then she pressed down again. The cheap nylon of the carpet chafed her nipples, increasing their sensitivity. The twin aches jerked on a direct line to her clit. Fluid leaked from her, dripped down the sides of his narrow waist to moisten her thighs and erase any friction between their bodies.

Steam made the air around them opaque as she rubbed faster. She smelled the light tang of pre-cum, the scent not foreign, only long absent from her life. She inhaled deeply, taking in air and life even as she denied him.

Hands mashing lightly against his face, she lifted her torso and let him suck in more oxygen. When she covered him again, her pushing and wiggling intensified. His stomach muscles were rock solid. She found that, if she rode them at just the right angle, her clit slid against the unyielding plane. The sensation made her buck and hump and moan with him as more cream leaked from her cunt.

His fat cock poked at her ass. Reaching behind her, she spread one cheek, letting the head nestle between the folds. He couldn't enter her in the position, but the gentle battering of her anus increased the delicious ache possessing her cunt. Muscles knotted inside her pussy, twisting and rolling in ways she had never experienced.

Desire -- this was what it felt like to be desired, to be a sex object, to have one purpose for the man beneath her.

Her eyes rolled back in her head as the pressure against her clit stacked itself higher. She humped harder, her padded flesh hitting against his steel frame as the head of his cock kissed the pucker of her ass over and over.

She denied him air longer than the other times. She rode his stomach, grinding her swollen clit up and down as her breasts smothered his face. The tension climbed, her nipples sore against the rough carpet until everything slammed roughly against her all at once and she screamed in release.

Feeling the warm squirt of Warren's orgasm wetting her bottom, she remembered to lift her body. Looking at him, the blood slowed in her veins. His tanned skinned had turned a reddish purple and he didn't suck in air.

Not good...

Lila felt another squirt against her backside and then his lips parted. He opened his eyes. The soft shadow of begging they had held a few minutes before was gone. All that remained was the powerful, soul-crushing billionaire.

She slid to one side, her mass slow to relinquish control over him.

"Don't move," he ordered.

Rising, he went into the kitchen. He grabbed a roll of paper towels and the plastic grocery bag she had folded on the counter earlier that day. He ripped one sheet off, clearing her juices from his body.

Turning the hot water on, he ran a second sheet under the tap then squeezed the excess moisture from it. He prowled into the living room, the lamp's feeble light dancing against his skin as his powerful thigh muscles flexed with each step.

"Spread your legs."

Lila did as he commanded, her gaze on the floor. He started to wipe his cum from her.

"Look at me."

She hesitated, all the power she felt as she rode him had evaporated after his climax. His hand stopped moving between her legs, forcing her to lift her gaze.

"My driver will return Saturday night at nine." Finished erasing his DNA from her flesh, he dropped the paper towel into the grocery bag and started dressing. "I don't care how you dress, there will be clothes for you to change into where he takes you or you'll come to me nude. Same deal, twenty-five thousand dollars. Is that agreed?"

Again, she hesitated. Even if she paid taxes on the money from this session, it would last her another twelve months of failed job searches. Somehow, she didn't think he would report the time spent with her on some balance sheet. That meant the money would last longer. She didn't have to consent to a second time.

"Don't try to drive the price up, Lila. I won't repeat the offer."

Lila blinked, not quite caving. If she went, it wouldn't be about the money. It would be to steal back the power she had felt as she rode him, as she granted and withheld the oxygen that he couldn't live without. Maybe next time, she could keep that power a little longer and leave him with a little less.

She nodded then looked away as he dressed and left, taking the plastic bag with its soiled paper towels.

**********

Lila pampered herself before Saturday and Warren's driver landed on her doorstep. Nothing too obvious -- she didn't want Gates to think she had primped for him. So she indulged in a trip to the hair salon to tighten her luxurious curls, a seaweed facial and an expensive scrub to soften and polish all of her flesh. He might not see the difference, but he would feel it.

She greeted the driver in a gray, stretchy skirt that narrowed at her knees. No nylons underneath, just sensible flats and panties that she had purposefully worn since Friday afternoon and masturbated in two hours before the driver's designated time of arrival.

A black silk shift and lace bra covered the top of her body, her plump arms and the side folds of her breasts bared to the driver's view.

Not that the man looked. His eyes were on his shoes when she opened the door and they stayed there as he escorted her to the limo and held its door open for her.

"Thank you, Jeeves," she quipped, sliding into the seat and ignoring the safety belt.

The door shut. Hearing his door open and close, she sneered at the dark glass. He probably couldn't see her. She didn't care if the gesture was wasted. The man likely received more per session than she did just to keep his mouth shut.

Closing her eyes, she sank into the plush cushion-seat the limo offered and let her other senses feed her information. The cabin smelled like Warren. Dark spices warred with a light citrus and a hint of brown sugar. Sexy and tasty, the odor heated her pussy until fresh juices seeped onto the bottom panel of her lacy black underwear.

She smiled at the undergarments. She had forced herself to visit Atlanta, guessing that the city catered to every kink and fetish imaginable if she only dug deep enough. She barely had to scratch the surface before she found a boutique lingerie that serviced women her size and larger.

More than that, Lila had found respect in that little shop tucked away at the back of an alley. The owner Jules had provided her with several business cards of other men who would be interested in spending time with Lila should her current client base of one run out of money.

A fresh smirk lifted the corners of Lila's mouth. She couldn't imagine Warren Gates running out of money. Twenty-five thousand dollars probably wasn't even one bet on a single hole between him and his golf buddies. The issue wasn't when he would run out of money, but when he would lose interest.

She relaxed a little deeper into the seat, her mind wandering to encourage the flow of cream between her legs. Jules had counseled her on a number of techniques. Lila wasn't sure if she should use them. Perhaps Warren wanted a woman unschooled in his fetish. One he could command, one that wasn't yet jaded.

Still, she imagined doing to Gates some of the things Jules had discussed. Imagined and imagined until the anticipation turned into a squirming dance, the tension verging on overwhelming as the limo slowed to a stop.

Eager to be rid of his charge, the driver quickly opened her door. She looked around as he hustled her to an elevator. They were underground in a garage filled with collectible cars. Like her, the chassis were all big curves, their gleaming surface making them look as slick as she knew her thighs to be.

The driver popped his head and one arm inside the elevator, punching the button to the second floor. Narrowly escaping the closing doors, he disappeared from sight before the elevator carried her up to her waiting billionaire.

Rather, it carried her to a long corridor with an open door at its end, the room's interior providing the only light source for her journey. She traversed the distance, her legs beginning to ache as she crossed the room's threshold.

She'd had a sense as she approached that there was no real furniture inside, just cushions on the floor and low standing tables. That suspicion was confirmed when she finally entered the space.

Standing just inside the doorway, she scanned the room. Most of the tables provided a base for sculptures. The pieces were small in one sense, but large in another. All of them depicted women with the same rounded flesh and thick folds as Lila. The tiny heads topping the voluptuous hourglass bodies made her laugh. Gates had no need for brains in his women, just tits and ass.

Turning her attention to the table in the center of the room, she spotted a small, folded notecard. She crossed to it and read the one-word command.

"Strip."

She felt the power of that first night with Gates in her trailer surge back into her body, straightening her spine and lifting her breasts. Reaching behind her, she unzipped the shift that covered her torso. She removed it slowly, uncertain whether he watched but imagining that he did.

Her hands hesitated at the front clasp of her bra as she tried to anticipate which would please Warren more -- her heavy breasts gathered tight to her chest or hanging from her body as she moved the skirt down her hips and thighs.

Free swinging, she decided. If he was watching, he would imagine their soft, yielding contours pressed against his nose and mouth.

She undid the clasp and let the black lace fall to the floor. She kicked it to the side and started the slow, teasing removal of her skirt. The shoes followed. Standing only in her panties, she pushed all the other clothing into a pile on the floor then stepped to the biggest floor cushion the room had to offer.

Rubbing her hand vigorously against her pussy, she coated the lace with a fresh layer of cream then peeled them down her legs and placed them carefully at the head of the cushion. Naked, she straightened and waited.

Confirming that he had been watching, Warren opened the door at the opposite end of the room less than a minute later. Nude, his cock stretched the same hard line it had traveled in her trailer, the arrowhead tip ending just short of kissing his belly button.