The Woman of the Billionaire's Dreams (2 page)

She spent the weekend trying to decide what to do with this new information. She felt in her heart that the dream was a thought she had shared with Mr. Hayes, a real thing that he wished for. She knew now exactly what he wanted, but she was torn on what to do next. Should she compromise her ideals and sleep with Mr. Hayes in order to get ahead in life?

She technically served people what they wanted all the time in a restaurant, so what was the difference between that and serving a rich man what he wanted sexually. Her pride was in the way, she knew. More than that, she had doubts. What if her head injury caused her to have this vivid dream and the feeling she got was just a hallucination? What if this was a real psychic link, but the real Mr. Hayes wouldn't give up control? Plenty of people had fantasies that they had no intention of ever carrying out, and this might be one of them.

No, she decided, he came in with a different girl every week because he wanted one of those girls to take initiative, to control him. Would she let that girl be her?

She came into work on Monday and picked up several hours of overtime, and came home exhausted. Tuesday morning's mail brought her medical bills, and she quickly did the math to see how many hours of overtime that it would take to pay them back. She decided then and there that her pride wasn't worth that many hours.

***

F
riday came, and Tracy was so nervous. Today was the first day that she was hopeful for the future. She was also a little ashamed that it had come to this, but this had to be done. She put on a light brushing of make-up and a spray of perfume, something she hardly did for work, but tonight was a special occasion. She arrived early, and made sure not to get any stains on her uniform. She would need it all the help she could get, and a lack of confidence caused by a ketchup spot would ruin this whole plan.

Sure enough, at about the same time as usual, Mr. Hayes showed up. This time he had a buxom blonde with him, wearing a dress that showed off all that she had to offer. He was wearing his usual suit, and he smiled when he saw Tracy. Tracy smiled at the two of them and showed the two of them to their table. Mr. Hayes started to look over the wine list while his bimbo went to the bathroom.

“So,” he said without looking up from the wine menu. “Have you thought over my offer?” It was clear from his body language that he expected another refusal.

“Yes, I have,” she said. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Here goes nothing. “If you want me, you'll get up and walk out of here right now with me.”

He looked up at her, puzzled, then looked back down at the menu. “That's pretty funny, sweetheart. If you didn't notice, I brought a date with me. But, if you're interested, maybe the three of us...”

She cut him off right there. “If you want me, ever, you'll leave this woman at the restaurant and walk out the door with me. This is a one-time offer.”

For a moment he seemed taken aback. He was clearly not used to being talked to this way, and she could tell that he almost came back with an angry response. But then, he took a look down her body, nodded his head and stood up. As they walked quickly to the exit, he put his strong hand on her back, guiding her past the line of people at the door. The sensation sent a tingle down her spine, and she knew that this was going to be a great experience after all.

Luckily, thought Tracy as they stepped into the warm summer evening, the only employee who saw them leave was the doorman. When the bimbo came back from the bathroom, and when her manager found out she had walked out on a Friday, there would be hell to pay. This was going to be worth it, though.

When they got to the car, Mr. Hayes opened the back door to his black sedan. Tracy peered inside and saw no driver in the car. He thinks he's just going to fuck me in his car, then go back to his date, she thought. She managed to not lose her temper, but instead said, “Wait until we get home.” He smiled wide and closed the back door, and opened the front door for her. She got in, and he got in the driver's seat.

“I would have thought a guy like you would have had a chauffeur,” she said.

“No, I prefer driving myself. I like to drive and hate to be the passenger,” he said. It told her all she needed to know. He had to be in control because no one else would do it right. The dream was a psychic link, of that there could be almost no doubt.

As they pulled out of the parking lot, he put his hand on her knee. Again, it almost sent an electric shock through her body, his powerful hand beginning to massage her leg. He wasn't going to get much of a feel through the pants of her waitress outfit, she thought, but she ought to set the record straight right away.

“Mr. Hayes...” she started.

“Please, call me Paul.”

“Mr. Hayes,” she said again. “I know what it is you want.”

“I think we both have a pretty good idea of what, or who, I want,” he said.

The way he said it gave her pause. I could fuck him, just for my own enjoyment. She quickly shook that thought away. She was a woman on a mission, and no sweet talker could dissuade her from her mission.

“I know what it is you want,” she repeated. “But what's more important is what I want.”

“Is that right?” he asked, almost a little mockingly. “I think you want the same thing I want anyway.”

“Maybe, or maybe not. I guess we'll have to see when we get to your house,” she teased. Keep your libido under control, girl, you've got to pull this off.

***

W
hen she first saw his mansion, she almost whistled. It was at least twice as big as she would have guessed, and was located directly on the beach. It had to be a ten million dollar house, she thought. He parked the car in the garage, and the two of them went in the door. The butler was waiting for him there. So, I guess he does have some people that do things for him, she thought. He didn't seem too surprised to see Mr. Hayes with a different woman, but he probably saw a lot of that while working here. He said a quick hello and then the two of them went upstairs. The bedroom was at the end of a long hallway, and Tracy made sure to remember how to get back out the door.

When he opened the door to the bedroom, she once again had confirmation. It was, more or less, the same bedroom as in the dream. The bed was the same too, big and with a giant brass headboard. Once inside the bedroom, Mr. Hayes turned to Tracy. She knew she had to give him something, so she let him take her in his arms. He kissed her, and she kissed back, hungrily, feeling the lust within her grow.

Both the devil on one shoulder and the angel on the other shoulder were giving her mixed signals, at times telling her to give in, at others telling her to flee with her dignity intact. Finally, her brain overrode her loins, and she pulled away from him. She stepped away from him, and he looked her up and down.

“Get on the bed and take off your clothes, I have a little show for you,” she said.

“I've got a better idea,” he started as he walked towards her, and put his hands back around her waist. “I’ve got a bottle of wine just waiting to be uncorked. Why don't we...”

She cut him off. “Mr. Hayes, remember what I said. It's more important for me to get what I want. Get on the bed. You'll enjoy the show, I promise.”

He looked the same as he had in the restaurant, like he had never had a woman resist his advances for even a moment. But, again, he smiled wryly and backed away. He took off his suit coat and his tie, kicked his shoes off, and laid on the bed.

Tracy went to a nearby closet and quickly found what she was looking for – two black ties. She moved over to the bed, and smiled at him. “Put your hands up,” she said.

“Oh, some kinky stuff. I can get into that,” he said, with a slight amount of discomfort in his voice. He was clearly unsure of where this was going, but was not used to giving up his control. Tracy had looked up a lot of different knots this week, and she knew the best one to keep him completely fastened to the bed without cutting off circulation to his hands.

When she had finished she smiled and got back up. She slipped her shoes off and turned around. She slowly walked away from him, unbuttoning the dress shirt to her waitress outfit. Underneath it was the black lingerie she had carefully put on underneath, and she wanted to make sure it was still completely straight before she turned around for him to see it. It looked good, so she took the shirt off, turning around.

His eyes widened, and he smiled, as she undid her pants. She slowly worked them down, showing her black thong, garter belt, and stockings that had been hiding underneath. This set of underwear had maxed out her last credit card with any money left on it, but by this point she was sure she had made the right choice. Her body filled out the lingerie in all the right ways, and she was sure she looked better in it than that skinny bimbo would have.

She smiled, and did a little turn. “Do you like what you see?” she asked.

“Yeah! Come on over here and I'll show you,” he said.

She smiled, and she knew it'd be her last smile for a few minutes. Again, she took a deep breath, then breathed it out, knowing there was no going back after this. “Really? Because I don't like what I see.”

He frowned. “Oh come on, you look great! I hate it when hot girls demean themselves.”

She laughed, a fake laugh. “Oh, not me! I look great! I was talking about you. I don't like what I see in you.”

His smile vanished. “What?”

“Right now, I'm looking at something that disgusts me.”

He looked shocked, and began to struggle against his bonds. “Hey, if this your idea of foreplay, then you're pretty weird.”

She ignored him. “What I see is a helpless billionaire, tied to a bed, not in control at all. Just like he's a helpless billionaire, tied to a company, not in control at all.”

He struggled more. “Look, I think we've had a misunderstanding. Untie me and I'll take you back home. We'll forget this ever happened.”

She felt like she might be losing control of the situation. She got to the foot of the bed, and touched his foot lightly. He relaxed a little bit.

“I think I know what you want, but I want to hear it from you,” she said.

He looked flabbergasted. “What do you think I want? Why do you think I brought you to my bedroom?”

She got up on the bed, moving her hands up his legs. “What do you want?” she asked again.

He blinked. “I want to fuck you, Tracy.” He started to sound a little frantic.

She frowned and grabbed his legs hard. “You want to please me?”

He smiled, thinking that he finally caught on to the game. “Yes!” he said, sighing as he did so. He was starting to get worked up, unsure if he was about to be robbed, murdered, or have fantastic sex. “Yes, Tracy, I just want to please you.”

“Really? Because, I don't think you can please me,” she said.

He got real quiet. Something inside of him, maybe deja vu, had stirred. He remembered the dream, she could tell. Suddenly the bulge in his pants grew in size, turned on by this woman in charge of him.

“That's right. I've known what you want all along,” she said, and reached up to unzip his pants. He moaned a little as his cock sprang free from his pants. His member was long and thick, and I'm sure he was used to giving women the ride of their lives with it. It explained quite a bit of his confidence, Tracy thought. She began to get wet just thinking about lowering herself onto that beautiful cock, but she forced herself to snap out of it.

“What do you want?” she asked again.

This time he seemed to get the hint. “I want to please you,” he said.

“You'll never please me,” she said, surprised that she had managed to get that line out as confidently as she had. She grabbed onto his cock, holding it like she had in the dream. She didn't squeeze quite as hard as the dream Tracy had, but she was firm. He began to thrust into her hand, but she didn't do anything resembling a hand job to him.

“What do you want?” she asked once more.

“Oh God Tracy, I want to fuck you. I want to please you. I'll do anything. Tell me what it is and I'll do it. Just let me do it.”

She let go of his dick, and climbed on top of him, straddling him. His cock thrust in the air, questing, trying to get to her still clothed pussy. Occasionally it would brush against her panties, and she wanted to gasp, but she knew she had to remain in control. With her hands on his chest, she said, “That's not what you want. I know what you want, and it's not for you to take over from here.” She paused for effect, then,

“What do you want?”

“I want you to take control,” he said, shifting back and forth. His dick felt ready to explode from how hard it was behind her pussy and ass.

“You want me to take control of...what?” she said, leading him to what she wanted him to say.

“I want you to take control of me!” he yelled.

“Good,” she said, her pussy leaning up against his cock. Only that last little bit of fabric was stopping him. She could have sex with him now, get plowed for her own release, and it might still fit with her plan. No...

She got up. He writhed on the bed, half in ecstasy, half in agony. She walked over to where she had taken off her waitress pants and pulled a paper out of the pocket.

“You said the other day that you could help me with my medical bills,” she said, completely business-like.

He looked shocked, “You want to talk about this now!? Trust me, we can take care of this later.”

She ignored him. “You mentioned some friends with the Chamber of Commerce and other doctor friends. I don't care how you take care of this, but you're going to take care of it.”

He smiled. “Yes, yes, the bill will be paid. If that's what you want, if that's your price, you've got it. Money is no object. Now, can you come back into bed.”

She continued, “When this is taken care of, you'll come to the restaurant again. Then...” she ran her fingers through her hair, like she was getting turned on. “Well, then you'll see how I treat people who begin to please me.”

He was in shock. “I'll call them right now, just untie me. Please!”

“One last thing,” she said. “If you ever...” she paused again, and took a deep breath in. “EVER... want some of this, you won't make me ask twice.” She set the paper down on the foot of the bed, and walked back to her clothes.