“I’ll set the house temp so that it’s eighty degrees at all times, you’ll be toasty baby, I’ll make sure of that. In fact, it’s already at eighty-five.”
And sure enough, the girl overheated again, a delicate flush rising to her cheeks.
“I did think it was a little hot,” she whispered, her eyes dropping to the table before stealing a glimpse at the g-string again. Fuck, the tiny piece of lingerie was so small, so flimsy in my hand that I bet she was already thinking how I’d rip it off in one fell swoop, that bit of fabric no match for my aggressive ways.
And I laughed deep in my throat because the teen was right. And there was more.
“Good, that was rule number one. Rule number two is that when I’m in a room, you’ll need to show me your pussy.”
She gaped again at me, mouth open.
“But I don’t get it Mr. Jones. Aren’t I supposed to be wearing … that?” she gestured at the lacy g-string in my hand. “That would co-cover me,” she stammered.
“Yes,” I ground out, my eyes hot on her body. “But you’re gonna be pointing your pussy at me at all times, pulling the cloth to the side so you’re bare. Like this,” I demonstrated with the g-string, stretching the crotch to one side so there could be no mistaking exactly what she was supposed to do. “Your kitty is mine and I expect it to be open for my gaze and touch whenever I want.”
And the girl gasped again but I could tell she was turned on too.
“Oh my god, Mr. Jones, oh my god.”
I could tell Lindy thought she was in the middle of some Fifty Shades of Grey dream scenario, but there could be nothing further than the truth. Christian Grey was a boy, a sissy trying to figure himself out. By contrast, I was an adult male, alpha, dominant, and had been playing with females for years. I knew exactly what I was doing, and exactly how I wanted to do it.
“Got that honey?” I rumbled deep in my chest, my voice as soothing as liquid amber. “Got that?”
And the brunette nodded slowly.
“Yes, I – I think I got it,” she stammered, blushing again.#p#分页标题#e#
That was good enough for now because I’d saved the kicker for last.
“And honey,” I said slowly, “My last stipulation is that you fall asleep with my dick in your body each night. It can be in your pussy, your mouth or your ass, but it’s gotta be in you somewhere, pushed up tight.”
And that one made Lindy audibly shriek then, her gasp sliding into a high-pitched whine. Because I’d said nothing about oral or anal so far, maybe she thought the ten days with me were going to be just pussy sex, just a little dick in twat, a little creaming kitty on my pole. But hell no. HELL no. I fucking love a woman’s ass, that dry, hot heat, the anal breach so tight, so mysterious, and I wasn’t holding back this time or ever.
And the girl’s mouth? Well those pink pouty lips had had me distracted from the get go, made my motor rev for years, and there was no better place for them to be than circled around my dick, kissing me, licking my member, sucking me hard until her cheeks hollowed. So yeah, rule number three? It was the cherry on top and I was looking forward to having those lips on me tonight in fact. Fuck, I was looking forward to being in Lindy every night from here on out.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Lindy
My time with Chris has been shocking, blowing through all of my boundaries … and so arousing too. Because I’ve been tutored by a master, Mr. Jones knows exactly what he wants and is always in control, taking, stroking, kissing, loving, making me feel good all over.
And it was shocking at first, I admit. I knew my ten days here would open new frontiers, that he was going to take my virginity, that I’d have cock in me every night. I just didn’t realize how sensual it would be, how much I’d want it every second of it.
Take rule one for example. I saunter around the mansion now in nothing but a lacy g-string and black patent heels, everything about me out on display, boobs jouncing, hips swaying, my little cunt so wet all the time that my thighs are constantly smeared with cream.
And the big man? It’s like it’s normal to him to have a conversation about current events, about what he’s making for dinner with me perched on the stool, totally nude. He acts like nothing’s wrong, sautéing away, putting together five course meals while asking me about school, my job, my interests and hobbies, except that my huge tits are resting on the table all the while, the white flesh creamy and enormous, my pink nipples pointed at him while we talk.
And he notices, of course. I see the constant bulge in his pants, the way those blue eyes trace my figure, watch my tits glisten, the curve of my ass generous and firm. But he goes right ahead with whatever he’s doing, cooking, cleaning, getting my bath ready, it’s all par for the course.