A Benevolent Man?

[LitWriter2013]

Trent was disappointed, but not surprised. There were two kinds of women in this world when it came to sucking cock: those who did it without question because they wanted to impress their lover; and those who did it only reluctantly, and typically only if they were going to get something beneficial for themselves out of doing so.

It was probably a simplistic way to look at women and oral sex, but when it came to sex, Trent was a simplistic man: you were either going to participate or you weren't.

"In the morning, then," he said with a slight smile, hiding his negative reaction.

It wasn't as if he'd really wanted to get blown. After cumming twice already, Trent wouldn't likely have been able to orgasm from oral sex anyway. But ... a third climax from straight up fuckin' was easy enough.

He set the water bottle aside, switched off the lamp -- the only light now came from the moon low on the horizon -- and slid inside the bed. He cuddled up close to Tiffany, kissing her softly, then a bit more passionately. After a moment, he turned her away from him, as if to spoon; he groped her firm, young breasts and pressed his again-hardened cock in the crevice of her ass cheeks.

"I really enjoyed fucking you tonight," he whispered, a combination of erotic praise and plain dirty talk.

He took hold of her wrists, playfully pulling them above her head as he rolled her to her belly. He moved atop her, letting his full weight press down upon her, essentially trapping her against the bed. He could tell from her body language that she didn't want to begin another round. Trent didn't care. He wanted more, and that was all that mattered to him.

Using the strength in his legs and torso, he forced his knees between her own and opened her up. He shifted control of her wrists to just one, large, powerful hand, and used the other to reach down to his groin, directing his hard-on at her already used up pussy.

He ignored her obvious desire to simply curl up with him for sleep ... and pressed inside her...

 

[Emstar202]

Tiffany smiled at Trent, quite content to just curl up next to him and sleep. It had been quite some time since she'd felt the comfort of a man's embrace as she drifted off to sleep. She'd always loved the afterglow, the way a man would tenderly slide up beside her, cradling her body with his own.

She sighed as Trent did so, pressing his lips gently to her own. She inclined her head towards him and returned the kiss briefly, but his tender kiss soon turned into a heated one filled passion and longing. He nudged her so his body lay behind hers, and Tiffany immediately felt his erection poking hard between her ass cheeks. His hand reached around to grab her breasts. He didn't do so gently, but roughly, applying pressure as he whispered in her ear, ""I really enjoyed fucking you tonight."

Then, swiftly, he turned her over to her belly once more and pinned her arms above her head. Tiffany whirled her head around, but he pushed his body down upon hers, spreading her thighs by force. "Trent, I said no," she told him, wondering if he were just playing around or actually serious about this. The full weight of his body was against her now, and it made her nervous. Her smaller frame was helpless to move under his larger one.

Her pussy was tighter than before, as her body was tense from his actions. She didn't want this right now, especially not in the aggressive way he was going about it, forcing her. It hurt when he pushed inside, and she couldn't relax, making it all the more painful. "Trent, stop!" she cried, trying to wiggle out of his hold, but all that did was have him slide in deeper. She cried out in pleasure pain, voice muffled by the pillow. "Please! I don't want this."

 

[LitWriter2013]

Trent ignored Tiffany's pleas, thrusting harder and deeper and faster. She had tightened up on him, making Trent wonder when her last good fuck had been. He liked thinking that she wasn't involved with anyone, thiugh he couldn't know for certain whether that was true.

When another plea to stop was loud eniugh to make him fear that even his half-deaf neighbor might hear, her pressed even more of his weight down upon her, reached a hand around to cover her mouth, and pulled her head back until his mouth was at her ear.

"I paid for this, Tiff'," he whispered.

And continuing to muffle her complaints, he resumed pounding into her until once more he released a deep, satisfied grunt of ecstacy.

 

[Emstar202]

Tiffany's struggles ceased at his words. That five worded explanation: "I paid for this, Tiff," he'd whispered, breath hot upon her ear, had her rethinking her whole situation. She lay there numbly as he had his way with her, pounding his cock inside her relentlessly. A sense of hurt washed over her, and she felt like crying. So he was using her?

She should have known.

He'd put up such a nice, genial front that she'd thought he was legitimately interested in her. Thought, perhaps selfishly, that he'd fall in love with her and her money problems would be resolved. No, she'd been acting like a child. He'd wanted her for her body, nothing more. That was why he'd paid for her groceries. That was why he'd invited her to this apartment. He didn't actually want her. He'd just wanted to gain her trust so he'd feel justified in raping her.

And she was letting him.

When he was through, he released his hold on her and allowed her to roll out from under him. A few silent tears marred her cheeks, but she didn't want him to see. Tiffany stared outside his window blankly, eyes on the moon, unable to look at him.

 

[LitWriter2013]

Trent sat on the edge of the bed, at Tiffany's backside for a long moment before rising, donning a thick designer robe, and heading out into the living room. When he returned, he came around to her side of the bed and sat directly before her.

He had her purse with him, a sign that their evening was over and the invitation to sleep over -- which she would have refused now anyway -- had been rescinded.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you." His tone was sincere, for he actually meant the words. He hadn't been trying to hurt her, physically or emotionally. He'd just wanted to see what her reaction would be to learning that he really had meant he'd paid to fuck her. He glanced down at ber purse, then set it before her. "I put a little something in here to replace your dress. We may have ruined it."

He'd heard ripping sounds once, possibly twice as he manhandled her, and while the dress didn't look damaged, he thought it was a gesture worth making.

He studied her a moment more in silence. Her eyes were still on the window, as if she wasn't even aware of Trent's presence.

"That last part... I put a little something extra in there for that, too."

He stood and steppped back, giving her room. It was his way of saying We're done here.

 

[Emstar202]

A slow burning, growing fire of rage was burning in Tiffany's stomach the more Trent ran his mouth. Everything he did, everything he said, fueled that fire. She still wouldn't cast him a glance of her deep chocolate eyes, but started determinedly at the moon, even when he handed her her purse, a nicer way of saying "Get the Hell out."

She was beyond offended. She was livid with rage.

Yeah, so what she was a lonely waitress who flirted with customers and wore push up bras to get a good tip? So what she'd never finished high school and lived in a crappy apartment more fit for an animal than a fully grown woman? So what that she'd been unable to pay for her groceries earlier today? That didn't mean she would ever stoop so low as prostitution! And to think, this man, who knew nothing of her past, nothing of her present, thought he could use her body and then discard it like a used gum wrapper left on the road, leaving her with a couple hundred bucks and one measly orgasm for compensation?! Who did he think he was?

"That last part... I put a little something extra in there for that, too."

That was her last part too. The last thing he needed to say before she finally looked at him. She stared into his handsome fucking face for a moment before raising her hand and slapping him hard across the cheek, hopefully hard enough to leave a garish, glaring red mark that he'd have to explain to his coworkers at whatever stuck up job he worked at. "Keep your fucking money!" She cried, shoving her purse straight into his chest as she leaped from the bed. She hiked her skirt down. "I don't need this!" she hissed at him. It wasn't as if any of her debit cards had any money left on them anyway. There was nothing left in that ratty old knock-off gucci purse except for her moldy Barnes and Noble gift card.

"Why would you even think I'd be the type of girl who would do this? Was it because of how I looked? My clothes? The fact I'm poor? How dare you, you fucking asshole!" She hit his chest again, then went to the side of his bed and picked up her high heels and slammed them onto her feet.

 

[LitWriter2013]

Trent watched in silence as Tiffany donned her shoes, smoothed her dress down again, and headed out of the bedroom. He'd known that he was pushing her hard, but he honestly hadn't expected this ... venomous of a reaction.

Trent felt that he recognized and accepted a truth about life that so many normal people didn't. And before Tiffany left his apartment, she was going to know this truth, too.

He caught up with her just as she was reaching for the handle of the front door. He snagged her by an elbow, spun her around, and flattened her against the wall with his muscular form. The move surprised -- possibly even shocked -- her, and she looked as if she was going to scream, or at least curse at him with all she had, he couldn't tell.

She didn't get a word out as his hands grasped her head on each side and he pressed his mouth to hers in a hard kiss.

"Don't be a stupid little girl!" he snapped at her immediately upon separating their mouths. "We all get fucked for money ... literally ... or figuratively. A woman lets her husband fuck her, hoping he'll work hard to earn the money that pays for the house that keeps her and her children warm, dry, and safe! How is that any different than that husband handing her cash? It isn't! The Prom Queen lets the Star Quarterback fuck her so he'll take care of her. Dances, movies, diamond earrings for Christmas, a gold Promise Ring for Valentines Day. How is that different than him handing her cash? A guy at some fucking plant let's his boss work him to the bone, so that when the poor sucker finally reaches retirement, his body and spirit both are broken. And why? The fucking money. We all get fucked for the big bucks."

He'd been holding her firmly against the wall, but now released her suddenly. He dug into her purse and pulled out the four, folded hundred dollar bills. With his tone still firm but less angry, he commanded, "Go home, Tiffany. Go home and think back upon your life ... think back upon the men who have parted your thighs before me."

He reached up and stuffed the bills into her blouse over one breast; he rested his hand there for just a moment, letting her feel it against her nipple. Then he shoved the purse into her hands and finished, "If you can honestly remember just one ... just ONE man who you ever fucked and didn't get some kind of compensation from ... dinner ... rent ... tropical vacations ... anything ...then you're a very special person."

He grabbed the handle, jerking the door open, and turned away, heading off to the kitchen to open a beer. He tossed over his shoulder, "Go home, little girl."

 

[Emstar202]

She was going to do something practical with the money, she decided. As much as she wanted those $200 dollar red high heels at the mall, she wasn’t about to use the money she’d earned in such a demeaning fashion on well, fashion. It just made her feel dirty and wrong. So she paid up a few left over bills from last month, much to the landlord’s great surprise. He hadn’t even bothered to hide his shock when she’d handed him $200 dollars in cash to cover for last month’s rent and several utilities.

“Jesus Tiffany, you rob a bank or something?” he muttered.

Tiffany rolled her eyes. “I told you I’d get you the money,” she told him confidently, although she didn’t feel confident at all. She felt low, really low about exactly where this money had come from. She couldn’t believe she’d accepted it! But then again, Trent had stuffed it down her blouse

She’d been blessed not to have crossed paths with him on the elevator at all this past week. She didn't know what she would have done if she had. Probably slapped him again, or worse, he'd get into her head again with his strange philosophy. She refused to believe him!

Until her lasted credit card bill came in that is. What in God’s name had she bought? She wondered, staring at the glaring three digit number. $736 dollars she’d been charged. Granted, a lot of that was because she continued to pay the minimum amount, but it didn’t help that she’d purchased those expensive earrings or that miniskirt or the new hue of her favorite make up designer’s eye shadow to go clubbing that one night. Shit added up fast. Heaving a great sigh, Tiffany rubbed her temples with the pads of her fingers and stared down at the bill, wondering how she was going to pull this off. She’d already spent half the money Trent had given... paid... her, and the remaining amount she did have was not nearly enough to cover this, or even to pay the minimum amount for the card! She was screwed. She had a week to turn this money in, but she hadn’t been given many hours at the diner this week and she still had groceries and gas to pay for.

Tiffany tried not to panic, but even so Trent’s words still kept whispering through her mind, “Don't be a stupid little girl. We all get fucked for the big bucks." She wasn't sure if it was actually starting to make sense, or if she was slowly justifying the service she'd unwittingly provided for him. Either way, the cold hard fact remained that that one night of sex had paid her more than she made in a week.

She'd mulled Trent's words over and over again in her mind, and yes, she'd considered her past lovers, tried to think of a time she'd given them sex when expecting nothing in return. She hadn't even realized she'd been expecting anything, but looking back she realized she'd get frustrated with them when they didn't pay for dinner the night after she'd given them mind blowing sex. Or when he'd skimp out on their anniversary, and she hadn't given it up to him that night. Oh God, was Trent right? Was sex just a tool people used to control each other? It was an enjoyable tool, no doubt, but it was a tool none the less. He had to be wrong. He just had to be. She thought of her first boyfriend back in high school, and how tender and loving they'd been. Innocent and naive, but even then she'd expected things. His undivided attention in return for a breathless kiss, his accompaniment to her cousin's wedding in exchange for a handjob. Thinking on all this had Tiffany feeling very ashamed and depressed. All this time she'd thought they'd been acts of love, and just fun, frivolous ways to tease one another, but in the end they had been a form of control, of exchange, of payment.

But what did this mean for her? Was she suddenly going to drop everything and become a prostitute? Obviously not, because the way Trent put it made everything drop to the absolute basics of human nature. There was far more to it then just sex=money. There had to be.

 

[LitWriter2013]

It was almost midnight when the thugs got the call with their marching orders. The shorter of the two pocketed the phone and told his larger subordinate, "It's a gig."

They jumped out of the stolen car -- parked in the alley down the street from their victim's home -- and made their way through the dark to the car they'd been told to target.

"Ready?" the shorter boss asked?

"Ready!" his larger cohort responded.

They both reared back with baseball bats and broke the windows on their sides of the car. It was an older model without an alarm system. The two had the doors open and the interior cleaned out of anything of value -- including the stereo and speakers -- in less than sixty seconds.

"Let's go!" the shorter man said.

The bigger of the two pulled out a solid hunting knife and, after quietly closing the passenger side door, stabbed it into one tire, then the other, then the last two, leaving the car sitting on its rims.

Long before anyone had had the chance -- or even the inkling -- to check the noise outside, the two thugs were gone with their spoils.

From the roof, Trent watched through a compact pair of binoculars as the two men thrashed the car. When they were finished, he deleted their phone number from his call log.



When Tiffany opened the door, the Super -- with a distraught expression on his face -- informed her, "The cops are downstairs ... on the street. They say someone broke into your car."

 

[Emstar202]

It was the day after her credit card bill had arrived when the Super banged on her door. As usual, she jumped, startled and turned off the latest mind-numbing reality tv show she'd been watching. She opened the door, aggravated and said, "I already paid you yestur--"

The Super didn't bother with hellos. "The cops are downstairs ... on the street. They say someone broke into your car."

"WHAT?!"

~~~

"What do you mean, 'you can't do anything else'? Look at my car! How am I supposed to get around? How am I supposed to get to work?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but you'll just have to have a friend drive you."

"I want you to catch the man who did this to my car!" Tiffany ordered in a pleading tone. "Please!" she added, thinking better of ordering a police officer around.

"We'll do our best, but we haven't got much to go on. No one saw them. We're running prints now, but I'm afraid we won't come up with much. We'll update you with new information."

"But who's going to pay for my car?"

"Don't you have insurance?"

Tiffany faltered. She did... long ago, but had cut it when her money problems first started, thinking it was a waste of money since she was always such a careful driver.

Defeated, Tiffany watched solemnly as the police car drove away and her car was towed to the junk yard. The bleak sky held no sun, and tears burned behind her eyes yet again. How could this have happened? Who could she turn to? She didn't have a good relationship with her family and her friends were all superficial. She had no one.

Inadvertently, her gaze rose to Trent's apartment. She thought she saw a flicker of a figure move behind the curtain, and for some reason it filled her with rage, as if he had been responsible for her misfortune.

 

[LitWriter2013]

Trent had done a little inconspicuous investigating prior to having Tiffany's car murdered. To get to the diner, she would have to take a bus to the "L", which would take her to 87th street, where she would have to walk two more blocks to catch a second bus to the intersection three blocks from work. The entire trip: one hour, ten minutes ... each way. And, Trent smiled, it was supposed to pour buckets tonight.

That was, of course, if the buses still ran when she got off work, which they didn't. So she could get to work okay, but getting home was another matter.

Her choice at that time of night was walking through what wasn't a very nice neighborhood to reach the "L", or taking a cab, which would cost her half her net daily pay. She could always hitch a ride from a co-worker, which again made Trent smirk, as he considered Tiffany having to eventually put out in return for the repeated rides.

We all get fucked for the big bucks.

He also knew that Tiffany was supposed to be at work in two hours. He waited until the police were gone and Tiffany was heading into the building before he began descending the stairs. He was just arriving at the landing of the fourth floor as she was unlocking her door.

It was the first time they'd seen one another since that night. He smiled politely, showing no signs of regret or apology for what had happened between them.

"Hello, Tiffany." It was a straight forward, no nonsense polite greeting, as if he'd walked into an office job and said hello to the receptionist.

And then, he continued casually down the stairs, hoping that her desperation would force her to either stop him now or on the second pass, returning to his apartment with the mail that he had intentionally left in the lobby mail box that morning for this exact moment.

 

[Emstar202]

She'd just have to call work and tell them what had happened, and that she couldn't come in today. Tiffany sighed, defeated. Losing this one day of work was going to kill her. She already had shitty hours. She couldn't afford to lose this late night shift! But what could she do? She hated mooching off of others, at least in such an obvious fashion. Those damned tears wouldn't cease as she stomped up the stairs to the fourth floor where she resided. So resolved to stay in this state of misery, Tiffany did not notice Trent at first. Only when she heard his voice did she start, her key clattered to the floor and she whipped around.

"Hello, Tiffany," he'd said. He said it like nothing had happened between them. Like they were still two neighbors, forced to be cordial to one another. This man was infuriating! She hated his white toothed smile, deceiving brown eyes and strong shoulders. Ugh! The worst part was, she was still attracted to him... and it was looking like she might need his help.

"Hello," she said simply. She then bent down to pick up her apartment key, but no other words were exchanged between them. Tiffany hesitated with her key in the lock as she heard his footsteps echo down the stairwell. She almost went after him. Almost. Instead, she burst open the door to her apartment, determined not to rely on him.

After an hour of pacing, Tiffany was out of ideas. She'd called all the contacts in her phone book, but everyone was busy or out of town. Her friend Ashley had offered to drive her the next day, but that was no good! She should have known she'd never be able to get anyone to drive her to her 3:30 shift on a busy Friday afternoon. Defeated, Tiffany sagged in her couch. There was only one number left to call. Work.

But her fingers hesitated on the upraised numbers. She thought of the measly $64 dollars she'd get paid for putting up with grumpy customers and spilling coffee on her apron for her 8 hours shift today, and the lousy $20 dollars she'd make in tips. Then she thought of the $400 dollars she'd made 'servicing' Trent. She thought long and hard on it, but in the end it was clear her decision had been made from the start. Disgusted with herself, Tiffany trudged up to Trent's apartment, but didn't turn around. She knocked on his door loudly, but wouldn't say anything if he were there to answer it. He'd know what she was there for.

She was there to get fucked for the big bucks.

 

[LitWriter2013]

Trent opened the door and gave Tiffany a friendly smile. There was nothing sinister in it, nothing to give the impression that he'd won ...eventhough be had. He stepped back and opened the door invitingly and watched her head purposefully to the end of the hall, where she stopped and stared at him in silence.

Trent passed by her -- close, but without touching her. He'd been drinking from a bottle of wine sitting on the coffee table and asked she cared for any.

He got her answer, then said point blank, "I asked you once if you were good with your mouth."

He sat in a deep, plush chair ...parted his knees a bit ...and waited to see how committed she was to paying the bills that would now be choking her now that she could no longer get to her job.

 

[Emstar202]

Tiffany was revolted with herself as she got on her knees before Trent. She'd refused the wine, feeling although it would have made the experience easier, she wanted to be sober for this. She didn't want to let it cloud her already poor judgement. With a deep breath, Tiffany undid Trent's belt without looking at him. She would not give him the satisfaction of watching her do this. Hopefully he'd cum quick and easy, and she could leave with her money without much effort.

Her fingers worked nimbly on the fly of his pants and she pulled them down slightly with his help, then took his semi erect member into her hands. She licked her lips, not in longing, not in appreciation, but in nerves, before lowering her slightly parted lips to the head of his impressive cock. Maybe, had she cared about him, she would have enjoyed this, but as it were she went down on him as if she were a machine. There was no passion in her suckling of him, no moaning, no brazen look in her eyes as she twirled her tongue around the head. She felt him grow harder inside her mouth and wanted to scream, but forced herself to continue. It would be worth it in the end.

 

[LitWriter2013]

Tiffany's work on his cock reminded him of his first blow job, in high school, by a reluctant girl friend whose motivation was that if she didn't want to lose him to one of the slutty cheer leaders, she was going to have to start satisfying his carnal needs.

Oh, what Tiffany was doing felt good, and ultimately she might cause him to orgasm. But really, Trent was hoping for more. He slid his hands down his thighs to her head, laced his fingers deep into her fine black hair, and pulled her away from him, causing his cock to spring out of her lips with a slightly comical plop

"Really?" he said with a sarcastic tone. He reached down for his pants, bumping her just hard enough to cause her to fall back onto her haunches, and stood, bringing the wayward clothes up to again conceal him.

As he refastened all Tiffany had let loose, he retrieved his wallet from the dresser top, pulled out a fifty dollar bill, and returned to her. He held it out, saying with a disappointed tone, "Go home, Tiff."

When she didn't take the bill, he simply let loose of it. It fluttered down into her lap as he turned and went into the bathroom, stripping his clothes off for a much needed, cold shower.

 

[Emstar202]

When Tiffany felt Trent's hands entangle in her hair, a nervous excitement fluttered in her stomach. She expected he was going to push her head forward, controlling her pace and forcing her to deep throat him. But to her surprise, he did the opposite. He applied pressure to pull her lips off of his cock, and it sprung away from her with a slight pop.

Tiffany gazed up at him as if to ask what was wrong, but she didn't have to. The expression on his face was enough of an explanation for her. "Really?" he asked her, pulling up his pants as she kneeled before him. He stalked away from her to a dresser top. Tiffany stood to her feet as he did this, wondering if he were going to take her to his bedroom for a repeat performance, but instead he returned to her and, hand extended, dropped a fifty dollar bill before her. "Go home, Tiff," he ordered in a displeased tone.

She retrieved the fifty, but by the time she looked up again, he had gone. He'd left her standing there awkwardly in his apartment as he'd went to shower. Tiffany stood there for a few long minutes, pondering what to do.

She had a fifty dollar bill. It was not nearly as good at 400 dollars and an orgasm, but it was only slightly less than what she would have gotten at the diner tonight, and she hadn't even worked for half an hour! Still, she wasn't going to make a living off of fifty dollar blowjobs. If she was serious about this, one thing was for sure: She'd have to work harder next time.

But next time didn't have to wait.

Tiffany stripped. There was no nonsense about it; there was no one to watch; no one to perform for. She didn't bother to fold her clothes or pick them up off his pristine floor, so they lay there in a heap as she turned and followed the pitter pattering of the shower water to Trent's bathroom.

She was quiet about it. Stealthy like a cat a she crept to his bathroom. And this time, she was excited, though she didn't want to admit it. Perhaps it was the fact she was doing this without him expecting it. When she'd arrived tonight, Trent had been in control, had ordered her exactly what to do, but this time, Tiffany could surprise him. She entered his bathroom silently, the rush of the water enough to drone out her quiet footsteps. Her nipples were already hard at the thought of her devious plan. She watched his outline against the shower curtain, and then wrenched the curtain away, shoving herself under the stream with him.

"Fifty isn't enough," she said simply. She pushed him against the shower wall roughly, not caring if he slipped, and then got to her knees. The cold water beat down against her flesh, causing goosebumps, but her body was slowly turning hot at her actions. Tiffany gazed up at him, chocolate eyes full of determination, mischief, and even desire, as she licked his cock from base to tip, hand playing with his balls gently.

 

[LitWriter2013]

Trent let Tiffany work on his dick without comment or interruption for a minute or two before finally complimenting her, "That ... is how you will make the big bucks, Tiff."

He reached down, grasping her head and -- yet again -- pulling it away from his groin. This time, though, he shoved it under the flow of water, soaking her hair to her body as she let out a little yelp of shock at the colder than normal flow. He slicked her hair back close to her head, so he could see her face clearly.

Then, he guided her in performing about the most erotic blow job he'd ever had...

"Faster ... yes..."

"Watch the teeth..."

"Now, cup my gonads ... yes... with the finger tips, play underneath..."

And each time she did something new that felt oh so good, Trent made sure she knew the pleasure she was giving him with a deeply drawn breath and a pleasure filled groan.

"Take more..."

"More...!"

"More!

She gagged after his last command, making him smile.

"That's commitment, Tiff," he complimented her, guiding her to take more and causing her to gag once again. "You may think that turns a man off, but you'd be wrong. A man wants to know you're doing your best."

The pleasure running through Trent's groin was building and he knew he was close to that point of no return, where even threat of an imminent nuclear holocaust couldn't keep him from exploding. Tiffany seemed to be enjoying herself, too. Of course, it could have simply been an act. Either way, it was exactly what Trent wanted from her: apparent pleasure at performing her job.

It was time. "I'm going ... to cum, Tiff ... take it ... oh, god, take it ... in your mouth in you ... do that ... but if you do ... show me. Let me watch! It so hot!"

Trent couldn't know whether or not Tiffany swallowed or even took loads into her mouth, but he knew that if she wanted to make the big bucks, he was going to teach her. He wouldn't have blamed her if she chose to turn away, or take the shots upon her body in some substitute show of eroticism. Cum was nasty, regardless of what the porn stars claimed on the internet. Trent knew this first hand. He wouldn't have been much of a pimp if he hadn't at one time been a whore himself.

His orgasm built slowly, with Trent continuing -- between quickening moans -- to guide Tiffany in taking more of him, deeper and faster. He grunted loud and deep as his cock erupted!

 

[Emstar202]

Tiffany worked hard. The first couple minutes of this Trent was silent, and that worried her. She quickened her pace, wrapped her tongue around his cock and even sucked on his balls. It became a goal of hers to hear him say something, anything! To let her know she was making him feel good, because by God was she trying. She moaned softly around a mouthful of his cock, knowing men liked the vibrations. She couldn't fit him all in, but she compensated by jerking off the base of his cock with her wet hand.

Then, finally, Trent spoke to her. "That ... is how you will make the big bucks, Tiff." He thrust her head into the cool spray of the water, and Tiffany shivered, longing for the heat of his cock instead. His compliment gave her a sick sense of satisfaction, so when he pulled her back onto him, she quickened her pace on his cock at his command. She pushed further down, then back up again, at a rapid speed. She accidentally scraped her teeth on the head just barely once or twice when she'd come up, but Trent was quite to rectify that, and Tiffany didn't ever come all the way up off his cock again.

She reveled in his moans. As much as she hated to admit, they turned her on. Like a schoolgirl, she felt pride whenever he praised her. His instructions were forceful, but she did her best to follow.

"Take more..." He ordered, and she pressed his lips further onto his cock.

"More...!" Further still she went, but could not quite reach the base.

"More!" Tiffany shoved her whole mouth down upon his cock without stopping, knowing there was no way she could do this slowly. It was like plunging into cold water; you just had to do it immediately or you'd never get there. Unfortunately, Tiffany had never swallowed a cock so large before, so she gagged around him, nails digging into his thighs as she pulled away, gasping for air.

His words surprised her. The men she'd been with had always thought gagging was gross, and she wasn't too fond of it either, but Trent was praising her for it. He loved it. Once more, she felt that strange sense of pride at his approval, and she took him in again with the aid of his hand on the back of her head.

He held her there for a long moment, and Tiffany chocked helplessly, fingernails digger even harder into his flesh, but she didn't pull away until he released the pressure on her head. She gasped around his cock before taking him in to the base again. She played with his cock and bobbed her head rhythmically until he was ready to burst.

His words were fragmented, letting her know he was close. She raised her hand to the base of his dick again, aiding her mouth in pleasuring him. Tiffany was getting so horny, and she was surprised. She'd never thought she'd like being so dominated. Her moans were real this time as Trent's cock began pumping out cum. As ordered, she opened her mouth wide so his cum shot onto her tongue and against her lips. She wasn't a fan of this, but in this moment, she would follow his orders. No use in stopping now. Her hand slowly jerked him off, prolonging his orgasm. Her breath was coming in short, fast pants, and if he reached down, perhaps he would be surprised to find her pussy to be dripping wet.

 

[LitWriter2013]

(OOC -- Just a reminder of what Tiffany and Trent look like.)


His climax was longer and so much more enjoyable than normal; Tiffany had done an amazing job of exciting Trent, and when he came he shot ejaculate her way again and again and again with seemingly no end in sight. He'd been pleased to see her take every drop upon her tongue or onto her mouth and chin. She may have hated his guts for what he was turning her into, but she was doing a damn fine job of making it appear as if she was enjoying it.

Trent waited for his heart beat to noticeably slow and his breathing to begin returning to him before he reached down, grasped Tiffany strongly by her upper arms, and lift her to her feet. He looked directly into her eyes and said, "That ... was a two hundred dollar blow job in the circles I frequent."

As soon as he'd said it, Trent wished he hadn't. He wanted Tiffany to believe that his intent was for her to become his own personal lover, his mistress, his toy. Hinting to her that he knew what people other than himself would pay for a great knob job might make her think he had bigger plans for her.

He did, of course. Trent planned on turning Tiffany into one of the City's most expensive and more expert call girls. All she needed was a little training, a little confidence, and a man to guide her.

He threw the shower curtain open and stepped out, bringing her with him with a hand still grasping one of her upper arms. He moved her to the counter, turning her to face the mirror while standing behind her.

"See that...?" By his gaze, it was obvious that he was speaking of Tiffany herself, specifically her body. She was stunning. Her brunette hair was blackened by the water and slicked back against her scalp and neck. Her firm breasts, now dripping with light-refracting droplets, seemed to defy gravity, their swollen nipples screaming out Suck us, we're cold. They were back from the counter just enough that they could see the neatly trimmed dark bush at the meeting of her thighs, and just below it the swollen, outer labia or her excited, sopping wet pussy.

"You are sexy! You are erotic! You should be using that to your advantage." She raised her hands a bit, as if wanting to hide herself from his view. Either that or, still covered in the cold shower water, she was simply cold. He didn't care. He had a point to make. He grasped her arms and pulled them to her side. "Your body is an asset. With it, you drive me crazy, and you would drive other men crazy, too."

He was edging toward revealing his whorish plan for her, so he ceased that line of talk.

"Your body ... your talent. Take control of your life by using the resources you have available to you." As he said this, he moved directly behind her, pressing his standing erection into the crevice of her ass cheeks and, grabbing her at the hips, pulling her ass hard back against his groin.

Trent's relative height to Tiffany allowed him to look over her shoulder and see her fully in the mirror. "Touch yourself."

He saw the expression on her face. She was either horrified at the thought of masturbating or at the thought of masturbating in front of the man trying to turn her into a whore. Trent ignored the look. "Touch yourself. Make yourself cum. Here, now ... with me watching."

Without notice, he suddenly turned and stomped out of the bathroom. He returned a moment later carrying his wallet. He slapped one, two, three one hundred dollar bills down on the counter top; they stuck to the droplets of water that had dripped from Tiffany's body, the Presidents staring up at her as if saying, Do it! Touch yourself!

"Show me you want the big bucks," he said with a daring voice. "Take control. You have the ability to earn as much as you need, but you have to have the confidence to do things you wouldn't normally do, Tiff. Do this! You're a strong woman. You came here to my apartment after what I did to you that night. You came here and sucked my cock, knowing that I'd hurt you. You're a strong woman. So take control."

He slapped a hand atop the wet bills, then grasped her hips and pulled her against him again. In a softer voice, he said, "Do it, Tiffany. If not for me. Then for you. Do you really want to spend your life flipping burgers? Do you really want to find some husband who'll take care of your needs in exchange for the Friday night fuck and dinner at six ... for the rest of your fucking life?"

 

[Emstar202]

Tiffany felt like a vulgar porn star with Trent's cum staining her lips and dribbling down her chin. She made a face like a child when eating vegetables as she swallowed his cum and wiped the remainder off her lips. She knelt there, panting greatly and gasping for air. She didn't look up at him. Even though she knew she had done a good job and had pleased him, the low feeling she felt at having performed such a service left a sick feeling in the bottom of her stomach. Yes, she was still turned on, but as their breathing slowed the reality of the situation became clear to her. She'd just given a blowjob in exchange for cash.

Tiffany wasn't expecting to be picked up, so she stumbled a bit as Trent gripped her upper arms and practically forced her to stand. He looked into her eyes, and she up at him. "That ... was a two hundred dollar blow job in the circles I frequent," he told her, perhaps meant as praise. Instead, it just made her feel even worse. The circles he frequented? What? Could he not get a girl on his own so he spent money on prostitutes, and now she was one of them? God, Tiffany couldn't bare the thought. She enjoyed sex, sure, but had always been taught to look down upon those who did such perverse acts solely for cash, no matter how unappealing the buyer.

"What are you, some kind of pimp?" she spat out. He didn't answer, but pulled her roughly alongside him out of the shower. He brought her to the counter and spun her around so she was face to face with her steamy reflection.

"See that...?" he asked, his hands resting upon her shoulders. Tiffany examined herself in the mirror as she listened to his praise, calling her sexy and erotic. She had to admit, looking at her misty reflection in the bright bathroom lights, that she was quite alluring. His cum dribbled down her chin, and her perky breasts were made even perkier by the temperature. Her pussy wasn't shaven, but trimmed neatly and curled neatly over her labia. Her pussy itself was wet, leaking it's juices out onto her outer thighs. Fuck, she hadn't realized, or perhaps hadn't wanted to admit, that Trent's forcefulness in the way he'd angled her head further and further down upon his cock as she'd sucked him had aroused her so greatly. "Trent--" she started, raising her arms to shield her body from the cold air, but he grabbed them and wrenched them back down.

She gasped as she felt his erect member press eagerly against the crevice of her ass. He pulled her back hard, holding her to his body tightly. Her body shivered at the contact, unable to stop from wanting him, even though her mind was repulsed by him. Her pussy throbbed in longing, begging to be touched.

"Touch yourself," Trent ordered suddenly, as if reading her thoughts. Tiffany was flabbergasted, mouth parting in awe in the mirror. She could tell from his expression he was serious. Tiffany hardly ever touched herself. She wasn't at all familiar with her body, preferring to let her lovers discover it for her. His voice was enchanting and left no room for argument. Tiffany's hands shock against his marble counter. "I--"

Trent left abruptly then, leaving Tiffany leaning against the counter top, her only warmth the steam that hung in the air. He returned after only moments, and slammed 300 dollars down beside her.

He sounded like one of those guys at the mall, frantically spewing off convincing arguments to get you to buy in to whatever they were selling, only Trent was far more convincing. He was right. She didn't want to spend her whole life at that diner. She could barely stand working there for the next year! He told her she was a strong woman, but the fact she'd been the one who'd come crawling back to him for money, who'd knelt on the cold tile floor of the shower to have her throat fucked, who now stood in front of his steamy bathroom mirror with his cock against her ass, made her feel the opposite of strong. She felt very weak. Conflicting thoughts and emotions played in her eyes, all reflected for his viewing pleasure in the mirror that dripped condensation. Finally, she decided.

"Fuck you, Trent," she growled, but then her hand shot to her pussy, unable to resist. It was clear the only form of payment for her actions would be in cash, not in pleasure, so she was going to have to do it herself... for the large sum of 100 dollars. She was horny, and poor, and somewhere deep inside where she didn't want to admit, got a rush at watching his pleasured facial expression as she obeyed his commands. She moaned loudly upon first contact, cold finger slipping inside her moist, hot folds. Her other hand shot down too, one pumping into her whilst the other twirled her clit. She mimicked what her lovers did to her. Tiffany was so wet, so turned on, that one finger wasn't enough. She was too lubricated for it to cause enough friction. With a frustrated moan Tiffany slammed two additional fingers inside herself and curled them, pressing eagerly against her g-spot. A cry parted her lips and she arched her body backwards into Trent's. Her breasts were pulled together by the position of her hands, and her lips were moist and parted as erotic moans slipped past her lips.

Her pleasure was escalating, building, but not fast enough. She wanted a cock, specifically, Trent's cock. She felt so shamefaced and just like a dirty slut for wanting it, but the thought of his thick cock pumping inside her was what really pushed her closer and closer to Oblivion. She resisted the urge to beg him for it, would not let herself get that far gone. Instead, Tiffany met his reflection's gaze in the mirror. Her desire was plain in her eyes. Any man could tell what she wanted without her needing to say it. It was so erotic to watch herself on the brink, so stimulating to feel his throbbing erection against her ass. Tiffany's body writhed both against her fingers and his erection, stuck between the cold counter and the heat of his body.

 

[LitWriter2013]

"Fuck you, Trent."

His first thought was that he'd pushed her too hard. Fuck! He'd been walking that razor's edge between using their mutual sexual attraction for one another and simply abusing her financial situation.

Then, to his shock, she reached down to her crotch and did as he'd commanded. One hand played with her clit while the other rammed fingers into her pussy. It made Trent's cock harden even further, which he would never imagined could have happened.

Trent bent his knees, lowering his groin relative to Tiffany's ass and pressing his cock hard into the bun of her ass. He did it for two reasons: one, obviously, it felt so fucking good to have it confined between their two wet bodies, almost as if deep inside her; and two, because he knew it would help him support her weight as the pleasure began to take control of her.

He wrapped his left arm under her left breasts, his hand grasping her firm breasts in gently kneading fingers. The other hand wrapped around her just below that. He had her weight totally under control: she could pleasure herself to fruition without the fear of falling to the floor.

Trent could see that the pleasure was escalating within Tiffany. She arched forward, concentrating her manipulations to drive herself toward climax. She moaned with each new touch, with the new fingers probing within her, with the alterations of movement against her swollen clit.

But he could see in her expression -- in the way she looked up at him with desperation -- that it wasn't enough. He knew what she wanted: she wanted him. Or, at least, his cock!

"Finish!" he commanded. He crouched more, pressing his groin -- and cock -- harder against her and grasping her tighter in his arms. "I know what you want, Tiff ... and I'll give it to you! But finish!"

He lowered his stance yet again, enough such that the head of his massive erection slipped below the lower curves of her buttocks and came into contact with her rapidly working fingers.

"It's right there, baby," he said with a lurid tone. "You can have it ... as soon as you cum."

He pressed forward a bit, feeling the wet, warm labia against the top of his cock. He felt her fingers touch him. He didn't know whether she was trying to guide him inside her or whether she'd simply contacted him, but he pulled back a bit, repeating, "As soon as you cum, baby. Do it. Do it for me. Do it for yourself."

He almost said Do it for the money. But he suspected she was standing at the fork in the road where going left meant doing as he commanded and becoming a whore; and going right -- or going correct, as she might later think -- meant getting away from him as quickly as she could and forgetting this madness.

 

[Emstar202]

One would think the pressure of Trent's urging would cause her orgasm to slowly slip away, crumble under the pressure, but instead, his insistence only caused her to hurdle closer to the edge of that precipice. She wanted to cum so badly, and as she felt his cock twitch against her backside, she knew he wanted it too, maybe just as much as she did.

He positioned them so she could use his firm body as a means of support, so Tiffany no longer had to worry about holding herself up. She could focus solely on pleasure. His hand kneading her breasts was certainly a large help, and when she felt his large erection press firmly against her, the tip brushing her fingertips, she knew the point of no return had been reached. As soon as she came she could have that thick, long cock inside of her, thrusting into her and hitting her g-spot from behind. The thought combined with her active fingers and Trent's ministrations on her breasts pushed her over the edge, and she fell hard, moaning in abandon. "Oh God, yes.... I'm cumming!" she cried. Her body shook and as much as she'd been relying on Trent to hold her body weight before, now he had all of it as she collapsed against him as the powerful waves of orgasm hit, knocking her off her feet quite literally. Her pussy walls clenched around her three fingers again and again as if they were a thick cock. It seemed to last for minutes, her pleasure carrying on and on.

When it inevitably subsided, she slowly pulled her hands away from her body with a slight squelching sound, and she rested them on the counter top. As a result, her ass shot straight against Trent's rigid cock. She was already in position, all he had to do was push forward into her eager little pussy.

 

[LitWriter2013]

"Oh God, yes," Tiffany cried out. "I'm cumming!"

Trent could feel her whole body tense as the orgasm neared rapidly. She exploded, her body trembling as the euphoria shot throughout her. She lost control of her body, collapsing against Trent.

He grasped her even tighter as her knees buckled below her. They were, essentially, spooning upright, with her buttocks pressed into his groin, the back of her thighs pressing across the front of his, and her back against his belly and chest.

Trent was in total control of Tiffany. And he liked it. Not just because he was a manipulative, controlling man, but because watching her surrender herself to him in every way was simply the most erotic thing a woman could do for him.

If he'd thought his own orgasm in the shower had been lengthy, Tiffany's was longer. The waves of pleasure shooting through her repeated again and again. She trembled, moaned and cried, then trembled again. It was beautiful.

Eventually, Tiffany's control of her body began to return. She laid her hands upon the tiled counter before her and leaned forward. She opened herself to Trent, either intentionally or incidentally.

Trent wasted no time. With her lower body still supported by his and her upped body supported by her elbows on the counter, he pulled his hands down to her hips, adjusted his stance to put his dick at her sopping wet hole, and pushed. She was tight, but he ignored that. He pushed until he was deep inside her, giving out a deep, satisfied grunt.

He held stationary for a moment, waiting for her to release her fierce grip upon his shaft. Then, with her thighs always against his, their bodies never quite separating, her used his hips alone to withdraw and insert, pulling out slowly, then ramming hard and deep into Tiffany.

She was still on a high when he'd started fucking her, and it didn't take long to see that she was quickly climbing up that ladder of ecstasy once again. Trent continued with his hard fuck until he thought she was close. Screwing her this way felt good and would push his right to the edge, but he he knew it wouldn't make him cum.

Trent didn't want to cum yet. He wanted to cum with Tiffany. They had fucked and sucked, and she had even driven herself to her own orgasm; but one thing they hadn't done yet was cum together.

When he thought she was almost there, he pulled her away from the counter and lowered her to the soft, thick floor mat. There, with her on her knees and elbows, Trent began pounding her with long, rapid strokes. This, he knew, would make him cum.

And, with groans growing in speed and volume, he slammed his cock deep inside her, arched his back, and erupted with a final, deep, animalistic grunt.

 

[Emstar202]

In the wake of her orgasm, Tiffany's mind was still hazy, and she was still horny, so she'd nearly forgotten the fact she was getting paid for this as she leaned against the counter top, practically wiggling her ass in an invitation to Trent.

He took it willingly of course, pressing inside her wet pussy. It was a tight fit, especially since her body was still tensing from her orgasm. Slowly, she loosened up and he pulled out... only to slam into her again, harder and deeper this time. Tiffany cried out in exquisite pleasure. This was what she needed. She rocked her hips back into his as he thrust into her again and again. Having already came once, her body was primed for more, and her second orgasm began to build quickly. She was moaning, incoherent pleas of yes, more, and even his name. She was far gone, lost to her most primal desires. She was nearly there, but then Trent switched their positions and altered the rhythm of his thrusting, so she dropped a little in her high.

She knelt on his fluffy carpet underneath him, face and elbows to the ground and on her knees to support her weight. Trent rammed into her from behind, harder and faster. She felt it building again, even faster this time. He was hitting her at just the right angle, hitting against that spot again and again and again, over and over. There was no need to announce her orgasm this time, because Trent could feel it. Her pussy clenched and unclenched around his cock repeatedly, pulling him over the edge with her.

They rode our their orgasms together, his deep groans and her high pitched moans echoing around the bathroom tiles.

When it was finally through, Tiffany lay on his carpet, panting hard. Although tonight had started out as a service to him, it seemed to have ended in mutual benefit for the both of them, though she would not admit it. Her flushed body and two orgasms were enough to prove that.

 

[LitWriter2013]

Trent remained over Tiffany's collapsed form for a long moment on his hands and knees, enjoying the euphoria surging through his every fiber. He looked down upon her, breathing deeply, with so many thoughts running through his mind. Two stood out, though.

I want to fuck this woman every night for the rest of my life. My god ... my god, she's so ... oh, god, she's suck a fuck!

Yet at the same time, I'm going to make so much fucking money off of her!

The thoughts might have seemed conflicting to most people, but to Trent, they were cooperating statements: he liked having a Lover, and -- with any luck -- Tiffany would continue to be his; and yet he had a job to do and had no qualms about putting Tiffany in the beds of other men -- women, even, if she was amenable to it -- to keep the money coming in the front door.

But that last thought could wait.

Trent rolled Tiffany to her side, scooped her up in his arms, and carried her quickly to his bed. Ignoring the water droplets still upon her skin, he laid her out in the middle of the bed, pushed in between her thighs, and grabbed his still hard cock in one hand, guiding it into her.

"We're not done yet," he whispered, kissing her for the first time since she'd come to his apartment that night. When their lips separated, he told her, "We're not done until you tell me to stop."

And holding his weight above her on outstretched arms, Trent fucked -- and later sucked -- Tiffany until she indeed told him through exhausted breaths that she was done for the night.



The sun rising up above Lake Michigan crawled down the inner wall of Trent's apartment and, finally, struck him in the face, waking him. He awoke to an empty bed and sat up slowly, looking about. "Tiff...?"