Caught in a Storm (Closed for RobbieRand)

"When do I have to decide?"

Despite the leverage he had on Shelby, Robbie had actually been expecting her to tell him no outright, if not tell him to fuck off. Then she hit him with it.

"And what if I say no?"

He lifted his coffee mug to his lips again for a long, slow sip before smiling playfully to her. "Then you'll be the prettiest model sweeping her hands over the latest models at the Summer Car Show."

He stood and moved across to the coffee pot again, filling his mug as he said, "I don't mean that to sound ... vindictive, Shelby." He turned to look at her as he added, "But ... I'm risking a great deal here, and ... I just think I should get something for it." He sipped at the mug, then added as he glanced about the massive kitchen with only the most modern of appliances and furnishings, "And as you can see, I don't need your money."

He gave Shelby a slight wave of dismissal, saying as he headed for the kitchen's exit, "Listen ... Shelby. You don't have to decide now. And ... if you decide you don't want to ... you know--"

He stopped at the swinging door to look back at the woman, giving her body another quick ogle before saying to her with a feigned tone of honesty, "Listen ... Shelby. If you decide not to spend time with me in ... that way ... I'll ... I'll try to help you as much as I can. But ... I'm not going to risk my career for you, let alone risk jail."

He turned and headed out, calling from the hallway, "I have to be somewhere. You don't need to hurry out."
 
"You'll be the prettiest model sweeping her hands over the latest models at the Summer Car Show." The words drove her insane when she heard them and even moreso three days later. In that time she had to watch Ashley Templeton each morning fill her role while she played ill, wondering what to do. If she did nothing, and was left to her own devices, the story would be out. If she took Robbie up on his offer, well.....she didn't know how deep that well ran. Six years ago, as a sophomore in college, she had formally declared her major and four years ago, she took an internship that allowed her to do fill in newscasts, work weather rooms during severe weather, and chase storms in the field. Each time she wanted or desired opportunity, a window opened and she was able to step through without resort to something as vile as a sexual quid pro quo. Of course, she knew she was cute, and that it was an advantage in the industry. She knew guys had been masturbating to her since she was fifteen, but getting them off had never been a requirement to live the life she wanted to live. And yet all of her work along that path was, perhaps, now entirely reliant upon her agreement to engage in just such an arrangement. She could not believe she was so stupid. Robbie had not even been so kind as to offer her a ride home after he had made his intentions clear, a small exclamation point on just how helpless she might be if she said no. After calling an Uber and paying a $64 ride fee, she had remained home since then, leaving only long enough to have a drink or two at the complex pool where she lived. And even such relaxation was without darkness - she went each day in case she decided to agree to her agent's terms. She didn't want him to see her without at least some tan.

As she sat on her loveseat watching the evening news on Wednesday night, she itched to be back in the studio. She badly wanted all of this behind her, though in reality it had not truly even begun. She cursed the natural anxiety that she carried throughout her life as it made her queasy and unsure about what she was about to do, knowing yet however that it was the surest course of action available to her. She picked up her phone as she curled her bare thighs beneath her, sitting over them in some little boxer shorts and a baby tee shirt, ever comfortable in her own home. She quickly tapped out a message.

Okay. The message said. Saturday night? She felt sick as she sat the phone down, wondering what she had just agreed to, but knowing at the same time. For the next nearly two hours she began to panic as no answer came, making her wonder if Robbie had given up on the deal at all and just how much a DUI was going to cost her in terms of her career. She had just poured herself a vodka to take an edge off when the phone warbled from across the room. She walked casually to where it sat and read the words on the screen.

Are you sure? I won't be pleased if you show up and then try to back out. The response from the agent gave her one last chance to not do what she was about to do. And she wasted no time choosing between a single night with her agent and the collapse of an entire career.

I'm sure. But I want neutral ground. Le Meridien Suites - 6:00pm. And you buy dinner. She smirked at her tiny demand figuring it was more than worth what she would have to pay him. The final choice was to be his, as she typed one last message. What do you want me to wear?
 
Three days had passed, and Robbie had neither heard from nor seen Shelby. Concerning the latter, he'd actually expected to see her back on the morning news program, not that he minded waking up to Ashley's shapely form. Robbie had paid the fines and fees to get Shelby's car returned to her, and after three mornings of the weather girl's bad Spanish translations, Robbie had actually begun to wonder if maybe Shelby had packed her bags into her car and split, rather than deal with his extortion and the likely bad press and dismissal.

In fact, he was beginning to believe that that possibility was so real that he'd called his other weather foretelling client for a meeting. He wanted to prepare the ground for possibly having Ashley step into Shelby's high heels. Their meeting had gone very well, so well that he was deep into her pussy, pounding her from behind over the kitchen table, when his phone began vibrating on the counter barely within reach. Without slowing his pummeling of the loudly crying weather girl, Robbie reached to tap the screen and open Shelby's text.

Okay. Saturday night?

"This'll just take a second, sweetheart," Robbie told Ashley as he snatched up the phone to return the text.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Ashley snapped at him. "I'm close! Finish me!"

"Sorry," Robbie told her, laying the cell in the small of her back. He grasped a hip in one hand and returned to pounding against her backside as he tapped at the cell's screen with one finger of the other hand. He sent, Are you sure? I won't be pleased if you show up and then try to back out. Then, leaving the phone right where it was, he grabbed both of the still complaining weather girl's hips in his hands and began ramming her harder, faster, deeper until -- just seconds later -- she exploded in a loud, trembling orgasm. As his phone chimed again, he asked Ashley wryly, "Are we okay? Can I take this?"

She collapsed onto the hardwood table, panting in loud moans as she waggled a hand dismissively Robbie's way.

I'm sure. But I want neutral ground. Le Meridien Suites - 6:00pm. And you buy dinner.

Robbie smiled. Shelby had caved, but she wasn't going to let him think it was a total victory. He lifted the phone and with a smile typed, You'll pay the tip though? He sent the message, waited long enough for Shelby to read it and, presumably, begin to get heated, then sent a follow up message, Kidding.

She asked what she should wear, to which Robbie contemplated, then sent Can't text right now. Will get back to you tomorrow.

Just as he pressed send, Ashley began to stir below him with movements that told Robert she was ready for him to be the hell out of her. She may have been done, but he wasn't. He took her hips into his hands again and returned to pounding her. But as he did -- as he drove himself to a very satisfying, very grunt-worthy climax -- Robert's mind was all about what he was going to do to Shelby in three days time.



Shelby didn't get her clothing request text from Robbie the next day. But the day after that, the FedEx Express guy rang her bell, saying when she opened the door, "Oh, I thought I recognized the name Shelby Mays. You're that weather girl on TV, right?"

He offered out his tablet, ogling Shelby a bit as she signed for the box he next handed her. He bid her farewell and hurried off to his truck ... but not without ogling her once more.

Inside, she would find a note that said simply Wear this, please. And below the note in tissue, she would find a skimpy outfit:

https://66.media.tumblr.com/7623a64ce33f73b5010c4a129bf00add/tumblr_objx6gcQhL1vvq6m1o1_540.jpg

... and what Robbie wanted her to wear underneath...

https://67.media.tumblr.com/860df798f7d42ec094d1e4ffb757a3a6/tumblr_o15ivfrTxg1s2rw5ho1_540.jpg

... and picking up the bottom half of the latter, she would find that they were crotchless.​
 
Shelby grew anxious at Robbie's failure to respond to her final message. It wasn't until the following day that she received a package from "a Mister.........Robert Randal," the mailman said. She signed the package and the mailman began to recognize who she was.

"Oh, I thought I recognized the name Shelby Mays. You're that weather girl on TV, right?" he asked.

"I am," she said, taking the tablet and signing for him. She blushed and scrawled her name quickly, wanting the man to leave as if his proximity allowed him to see her thoughts and know what she was up to. She felt his eyes roam over her body and she sighed a bit, handing the tablet back, saying nothing as this sort of behavior was not uncommon. There was a reason the stations sent her and others out to remotes and events during their off hours. Sex sold. And she wasn't Ashley Templeton, who she considered something of a whore, she was cute and blonde and knew that producers liked when some large percentage of their viewers wanted to put their cock in their weathergirl. It meant eyeballs on the screen, which meant they also saw ads, which meant ads made the stations money. And she knew it was a real reason that The Tempest was a threat to her job if she was caught in this, or any other, predicament. She turned and stepped inside to open the package.

Wear this, please. The note said. Shelby pulled a cute, though very short, dress from the small box. Holding it up, she could tell that it would accent her ass and thighs, her best features, though it would make her look something like a little girl or, at least several years younger than her twenty-five years. Nevertheless, had it been a bit longer, it might be something she could even wear on the morning weathercast. She shrugged and sat it aside, pulling out a pretty bra and panty set. And while she liked the look and the color, she saw quickly that it was crotchless, and she tossed it back into the box.

Like hell I'm wearing those, she thought, stepping into the kitchen to pour a drink. She took a sip and grabbed the phone.

Got your box she texted. I'll wear the dress, but I'm choosing what's under it. On that tiny point she would stand her ground. She would let her agent fuck her, taste her, make her to deplorable things. If he didn't like her panties, then too bad. She ignored any response he gave until the allotted time. She slipped on some pink and grey, bikini cut, sporty panties and a matching bra with small spaghetti straps, then pulled her dress on before matching it with some black heels and a matching clutch purse. She took an Uber uptown to the Le Meridien where she passed the inside bar and went to check in.

"Room for Robert Randal," she said.

The host tapped out something on his keyboard. "Presidential Suite," he said. "Very nice." He prepared and handed her a room key. "You'll need this for the 14th floor. Yours is the only room there. There is open access to your suite's private pool and room and bottle service are included on your tab. Shelby raised an eyebrow. Randal had gone all out it seemed. She wondered what all he had in mind. At least this would not simply be a dirty fuck in a Motel 6. She was glad she had suggested the place.

"Great, thank you," she replied. "Would you send two bottles of Moscato to the room right away please?" She asked.

"Yes ma'am," he said before sending her toward the elevators. An hour later, she had cracked and emptied half of one of the bottles, loosening herself up for the night to come, sitting with her feet up on the couch and watching some shitty TV drama and not really paying attention, as she watched the clock tick closer and closer to 6pm. She wondered where Randal was. She wondered what sort of lover he was. She had been with sweet guys who were too sweet, treating her too delicately for any good to come from their experience. And she had been with brutal, nearly violent men who had simply used her long enough to get off before going back to their every day lives - she suspected any girl who had been to college had such experiences. She thought about what she liked....firm, even rough sex, dirty sex where the man appreciated her body by truly enjoying her body the way that he wanted, but certain enough of getting his own pleasure that her was, at least, somewhat important. She knew that she had no say in the situation with Robbie....she was here to pay a debt, and she knew that debt payment usually wasn't the most fun thing. Her reverie was broken when she heard a key undo the lock at the door.
 
Got your box she texted. I'll wear the dress, but I'm choosing what's under it.

Robbie laughed aloud when he got the message about Shelby receiving his gift. He'd wondered whether or not he was pushing too far. He had. To make up for it and -- because hell, it's only money -- he upgraded the room he'd originally reserved after she chose the meeting place to the best room in the hotel. And walking in through the door to see those long, lean legs stretched out in comfort made Robbie glad he had. As he moved slowly toward her, Robbie began to imagine every dirty, nasty thing he was going to do to her tonight, and his cock -- which had already been growing at simply entering the room -- quickly hardened to its fullest state of being.

"The dress looks good on you," he said with a smile. He added, "Not that I doubted that,"

Robbie looked about the room for a very specific horizontal surface, then approached it -- a tall lamp table -- and set his briefcase flat on it. Standing between it and Shelby, Robbie pressed the very inconspicuous button on the side of the handle, activating the digital camera within it. He shifted the case a touch, hoping to be able to catch both the couch and love seat within it's 50 degree span of coverage. He turned to face Shelby, ogling her before moving to the bottle to pour himself a drink.

"I need to pee," he said without shame for his TMI comment. As he moved toward the suite's bedroom, he looked to the television, and -- with a devilish smirk -- said, "Spoiler alert, it's not his child. It's his father's."

In the bedroom, Robbie found another suitable flat surface -- yet another lamp table -- and pulled out what looked like no more than a typical iPhone, setting it down. He looked toward the living room to ensure Shelby couldn't see him and pressed a button. A narrow laser pointer illuminated, allowing Robbie to adjust the digital camera which -- unlike a real iPhone -- was located on the edge of the device. He adjust it to aim directly at the middle of the bed, then released the button, killing the laser and activating the recorder.

Happy with the set up that, Robbie hoped, would keep Shelby's delicious body and sexual servitude available to him until the day he tired of her, he went to the bathroom, flushed the toilet for audible effect, then returned to the living area where he said without hesitation or guilt, "Do you want to start here with some oral ... or go straight to the bedroom to fuck?"
 
"The dress looks good on you," Robbie gave a shit-eating grin as he entered the room. Shelby could not believe how smug he was going to be. There was no hello, no conversation. Just a predator eyeing the meat he would soon devour. Shelby rolled her eyes.

"Let's get this over with," she said, a bit impatient and, naive that it would be so simple. She watched him, perplexed as he surveyed the room and then placed his briefcase on the table. She wondered even why he brought it and what could be in it, her mind going to the darkest of places, though soon enough he seemed to ignore it and return his eyes to her.

"I need to pee," he said. She sighed as the anticipation would last that much longer.

"Of course you do," she said. Robbie glanced at the television and made some comment about the show, which she did not acknowledge, before he vanished into the bedroom and beyond. In moments she heard the toilet flush and her agent returned to where she was, and offered no preliminaries.

"Do you want to start here with some oral?" He asked. Shelby gave a look that suggested she was incredulous, despite not knowing what else to expect. She was, after all, here so that he could take his payment for services from her hide in whichever way he apparently deemed fit, lest she face worse consequences to her career and her life. "Or go straight to the bedroom to fuck?" He concluded. She sighed again, and stood up from the couch.

"I told you I want to get this over with," she said, slowly walking her way toward the bedroom. "It's your show," she concluded. "I guess whatever you prefer."
 
Robbie followed Shelby into the bedroom, telling her simply, "What I prefer is for you to take your clothes off ... get on the bed, on your hands and knees ... and enjoy me as much as I'm sure I will enjoy you."

He didn't expect that the third portion of his preferences would come to fruition, but -- with obvious reluctance -- the first and second portions occurred as they should. As she undressed and showed her womanly curves, Robbie ogled her intently, whispering repeated, "Magnificent."

When at last she was on the bed as directed, Robbie finally began stripping his own clothes off. He did so quickly, being as horny for a woman as he'd ever been in his life. When he mounted the end of the bed, he found himself staring right into the ass cleft and open labia of the woman for whom he'd carried a torch and a hundred erections since the first day she'd come to his office looking for representation.

"Magnificent," he murmured again, staring at the pink folds within darker ones. It was simply the most beautiful pussy he'd seen in ... well, in forever, actually. His thick, rock hard 8 inches were pointing toward heaven as he knee-walked up close behind her, laying one hand on a firm ass while the fingers of the second went directly to Shelby's pussy, toying with the already wet folds. He wiggled his digits about the pink for a moment, then -- without concern for her potential tightness, rammed his longest two fingers deep into Shelby as far as his hand would allow, saying as he did so, "Let's begin to pay that debt."
 
Shelby found it odd that he went to the elaborate effort of dressing her, only to have her make herself undress immediately, wasting no time for even the slightest bit of romance or warm up. His words made her skin crawl a bit more. She had little intention of enjoying much of what was about to happen. She did as he said, ignoring as best she could the comment that she was magnificent, unable to keep her nipples from growing hard at the appreciation he showed nonetheless. She slowly knelt on the bed, before placing first one hand down, then another, then crawling a bit forward, positioning herself the way he instructed. She closed her eyes in disbelief, as she heard the zipping and shuffling of his clothing behind her. She couldn't help but wonder what he looked like. Her agent wasn't disgusting, simply older and not anyone she would have seen herself with. She felt herself grow moist as she anticipated his touch. She tensed up when she felt his weight press the bed down between her feet.

"Magnificent," he said a second time. She rolled her eyes and felt herself blush, knowing he was eye to eye with her most hidden treasures. She felt the bed move slightly and sensed his presence there, just behind her, ready to take her and make her his own. Somewhere deep down she hated him. Somewhere deep down, she hoped he enjoyed her unlike anything he had before. She gave a slight jump when she felt his hand on her ass and closed her eyes again. It had always been her best feature, firm and in shape from running and working out - THE key thing she would highlight when she went out trying to meet guys. Now it was her first gift to the man who had her in this awful position, and who would have her in any position he wanted until her debt had been worked off.

"Unh!" She gave a tiny moan when she felt his fingers rub along her bare slit, biting her lip to ward off the shame she felt from being wet for him. Good girls weren't supposed to like this....any of this. And yet she felt something stir inside as he warmed her to his touch. Her back tensed and she went stiff a moment later as he shoved the length and width of two fingers deep into her, making her see a flash of red beneath her eyelids. She hadn't been ready for that violation - not yet and not all at once. "God damn," she groaned, her voice trailing off. "That hurt."

"Let's begin to pay that debt," he said as she gripped his fingers once, then again and again, allowing herself to grow used to his filling her core. She simply nodded a silent okay and allowed him to proceed to do what he would.
 
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