The Billion Dollar Sitter (14 page)

A thick hand massaged the exposed flesh toward him. "In some ways you are, rest her soul, superior to my wife. Your beautiful, youthful breasts. They are beautiful now, and they will be just as beautiful as they swell along with your belly."

He snapped away the front clasp, letting my erect nipples pop out exposed. My body had ached for him so much. I had managed to smother my lust for him for quite some time, and denial had only made my body burn hotter. A passionate yet quiet moan emerged as he traced those delicate fingers over my areola.

Tyson's hands continued their journey, a trail of pleasure following, down my body and going over my panties. The need down there reacted so strongly to his touch. A spot of moisture formed on the fabric, and he rubbed me through there with a fine and delicate pressure.

I cooed softly as he tickled me again as he pulled off the panties and placed them with the rest of my clothes. He had unwrapped me, and seemed to enjoy the sight. "You have your own beauty, Marci. While your face shares a resemblance, your body is your own and is as delectable as hers ever was."

I blushed, and shot my gaze away from him. This time not out of shame, but out of bashfulness.

"Brace yourself on the railing, Marci." I did as he said, leaning back. He dropped to his knees before me, and urged my legs apart. He took a lick, before staring up at me with a smile. He let the wave of pleasure wash over me before he spoke. "Your juices are the sweetest thing I've ever tasted."

His hands roamed over my ass, as he lifted me slightly, holding me firm as I held myself up. His hot breath rolled over my folds, another flick over my clit as his tongue glided around the edges. It had been two weeks since he ate me and our cold war began. His fire for me had returned, his guilt killed, and now he wanted only my pleasure again. I let the sounds built up inside escape, as my eyes rolled back and I caught a view of the night sky and full moon.

His grip on my cheeks continued to massage me. There was a warm and comforting contrast to the sudden pleasures his tongue brought. His fingers played me like a wonderful instrument. The tide of delight inside me was building, and soon I'd be underwater with no option outside submitting to his tongue.

My face contorted as I fought, my needing body wanting to enjoy this for as long as humanly possible. One hand left the rail and caressed his head. His grip on me became tighter to make up for it. I loved the feeling of his hair, his face, the way it tickled me. Tickling though, was an understatement for everything that I was feeling.

I grabbed a huge hunk of his hair. Resolute, Tyson was undeterred and he continued his worship of me. So adept, he knew how to make me his. How to make me lose control. My mouth fell open and let it all out. He slowed his assault, looking up at me with a smile. "I love the way you sing for me, Marci."

My feet hit the ground again and he rose to meet me. Eye to eye, he laid a kiss on me and I accepted it, not caring where his face had just been. His hands wandered up my body again, teasing the flesh that had already been reawakened.

He caressed my asshole, flashing me a grin.

"I'd love to take this, but there is a task that hasn't yet been completed," Tyson said. I smiled, knowing exactly what he meant. Hands leaving me, he started to undo the buttons of his shirt bit by bit. His chest was bared, with its fine hair. My lithe fingers shot out to enjoy him, and his hand covered mine with its own guidance. Together, he brought my hand over him. So firm, so strong. I wanted to have this as my own. Forever, and so badly. Even more as he undid his belt and let his pants fall to the ground, revealing his muscular legs. Tyson was more in shape than most men half his age.

Our discarded clothes formed a pile on the platform. Right now, though, they didn't matter. All that mattered were our two naked bodies, and how they were seeking to enjoy one another. How we worked to give one another what we both sought.

His hands laid gently on my waist. He urged me to  turn around and I obeyed his command. His fingers pressed on my back. "Look at the city. The stars. Their majesty, and how their wonders will pale compared to the wonders I am going to give you, Marci."

I smiled, and followed his guidance, bending over. Another cool wind blew past us, as I placed my grip on the safety railing. I felt his heat rub up against my tender lips and his pulsing cockhead teasing me. I gasped, the threat of such penetration being so amazing and wonderful in its own way. His hands rubbed my waist gently, as I braced myself on the railing. Slowly but surely he began to enter me, pushing his cock inside me, the familiar filling sensation following. My pussy squeezed him back, and I knew he enjoyed every little bit of me that I had offered him.

The friction of our most tender of parts meeting followed as he began his slow rhythm into me from behind. Every slide in sent me higher, bit by bit. The sensations built on the remnants of the orgasm he had already given me, and my body was so used to coming for him more than once a night by now - it pretty much expected to.

A more steady pace, he bounced off the firmness of my young ass. He followed it with a little slap. I craned my neck to give him a playful glare before his next penetration forced my head forward with a low moan. He kept pounding into me again and again. The tide kept rising inside of me, higher, harder, faster. My hands did their damnedest to crush that railing as the pressure inside of me roared higher.

I waited for the orgasm building inside me to rush over me and give me everything I had expected. Instead, Tyson began to slow himself down. I sweated heavily, panted, and shot him a confused look. "What's wrong," I asked.

He smiled, as his cock left me. "Marci, I want this not to be only a one way street. You need to enjoy me as much as I do you."

"I really, really do," I said, my pleas hopeful that he'd finish his job and start pounding into me again.

"No, no. I want you to show me how much you enjoy me."

Our discarded clothes were piled up on one another, creating a bed that was hardly worthy of a billionaire, but Tyson didn't seem to care. He laid down, his cock standing high and hard, waiting for me.

"Come, Marci. Take control. Love-making should be about sharing, shouldn't it?"

I smiled, now knowing what he meant. He wanted to do something new. My legs trembled, weak with orgasm and want, as I made my way to him. I began to lower myself onto him, taking hold of his hot rod, slick with our combined juices. So hard for me, and so in need of me.

Every time Tyson and I made love he had to be fully in control. He would pound me from behind, be on top of me, pick me up, pin me against a wall. The most I had ever done in our trysts had been sucking his cock, and that was rare. The power in our relationship was crystal clear.

I tickled myself with his cock. His hands cradled my hips, helping guide me. This was different. My mind was rushing with possibilities. Was I becoming more than just the mother of his children? Becoming more of his equal? Would I truly become, um, his girlfriend? His wife? My heartbeat a little extra hard as I fumbled and let him shove his cock deep inside me.

A surge of electricity spiked through me from the accidental but still wonderful penetration. Slowly, I recovered, and just as slowly I began to push myself up on him, dealing with the sensations traveling through me. I struggled to set my own pace through it all, knowing that as I found such a blissful rhythm, it'd only be harder to maintain it.

He was there, though. Tyson helped me find my way, guiding me as he always did. Every penetration was deep inside me, as I pulled him away from me, only to bring him back down in. Pleasure and joy overtook his face, his own quiet grunts hidden beneath my moans, each louder than the last.

It was tough to keep my pace, but his strength, and the will to so completely enjoy one another even more was enough to keep us going. His hands strong around my waist, I pushed on that wonderful chest, bouncing myself up and down on him. I was so lost to the ecstasy overtaking me, all my movement was from him and sheer momentum. My body was pounding with the rise towards climax.

As so many times before, Tyson had brought me there. My body convulsed and shuddered deeply all over him and yearned for him even more and even greater. Sweat leaked off me as I called out, my throat going hoarse as it always did after a night with him. One last thrust inside my tight hole, and Tyson too, was spent.

As bliss seared through my nerves, I felt what we had sought. His hands held tightly around my hips, holding me on top of him. The pulsing of his cock inside me, I knew its subtle movements so well. I knew the feeling. I loved it so much. The lashing of his cream inside me, and the full, liquid-y feeling that followed. I had felt it so many times over the past few weeks, but I always ached for the next one.

I knew that this had to be it. The surge of his sperm that would finally give us what we both sought. He had arranged this trip to make sure he had every chance possible. Margaret may have had her marriage proposal up here, but I had a marvelous memory of my own.

My body fell forward on top of his, my face against his pecs. He gently petted my hair, as I felt his come leak from my pussy and back out onto his cock. As his wonderful rod faded, it left me, leaving me lying on top of him. He whipped around my dress, covering my body with it. It was a blanket against the cool night air. "Rest as long as you need to, my young beauty. With the amount I bribed that guy with, we can have the tower for the whole week if we so desire."

I laughed, rolling over and seeing the bright lights of the city. It was a wonderful thing to doze off viewing. As wonderful as it was being in his arms.

***

I stumbled out of bed as I had so many times before. The mansion was ceasing to be the wonderland that it once was. Instead, it was simply becoming home. I started to carry out my day to day routine as I had so many times before.

A little leak, aimed delicately as always. I didn't even pay it any mind at this point. As basic as washing my face, really. I wasn't feeling so hot this morning, either. Ugh. I didn't pay it any mind. Even the wizard-like chefs on Tyson Knight's staff could accidentally under-cook something once in awhile. It'd pass like anything else.

I yawned and checked on Ty. He had woken up, but was politely behaving. I played with him a little and handed him some formula. He was managing to hold it himself and everything. I told him he was getting to be such a big boy and that he was way ahead of what people expected of a six-month-old. Except it was in a lot of incoherent baby talk that just made him giggle.

Next thing on the agenda was checking the test. I returned to the bathroom and glanced at it. Two lines. Typical. I tossed it in the trash and started heading toward the door, hoping some breakfast would calm my stomach and kill some of the queasiness.

Wait.

Two lines?

I rushed back to the trash can and dug through it. The damn thing sank to the bottom. A mess made of the bathroom later, I pulled it back out. One line, not pregnant.

Two lines, pregnant.

I trembled in place.

"What are you doing in here to make such a racket?" His voice rang out. Of course. We had returned to normal with one another. Loving, with a greater understanding. He had begun ambushing me again after my usual pregnancy check, after a few weeks of stopping that habit.

Today, me making a mess out of a garbage can broke his love of theatrics. I stood there, my arm shaking the rectangle in my hand.

"Marci?" He waved his hand in front of my face. I didn't blink. With some effort, he removed the test from my hand, and glanced it at it himself. "Outstanding. This calls for celebration, does it not?"

"Uh huh." My body still tense, he leaned in and planted a kiss right on my lips. I accepted it. Dressed only in my nightgown, my hair a ridiculous mess, I didn't feel like a girl who was a billionaire's lover. Mistress. Girlfriend. Babysitter. Whatever I was. He pulled the straps down from me, forcing the gown to the floor. Tyson himself was already dressed, an early riser who often beat me awake by two hours or so.

For me, though, he was quick to strip off his blazer, and button down his shirt. He wanted my newly pregnant body against his. I was now destined to be the mother of his children, no ifs, ands, or buts. I was carrying Tyson Knight's child. He wanted to enjoy me like any man would enjoy the mother of his children.

He pulled apart my cheeks, and pushed a finger into the tenseness of my pucker. "You've wanted this for awhile, have you not, Marci?"

Another weak nod. I was still utterly lost in shock that it was all finally coming true. At least, part of it.

"Now we can enjoy this without being wasteful." He smiled, his finger pressing in, and teasing the once-before used hole.

I had enjoyed a man back there once at Tyson's request. I loved it so, so much. I had asked Tyson on occasions since then for him to show me how he would do it. He had always refused, for there was always still a single line on that test. That was no longer the case.

Before he fully took off his pants, he pulled out a tube. I knew what it was for. "I had always planned on rewarding you with what you sought as soon as we got the news. Shall we?"