“God yes,” she said instead, shocking herself.
“Great,” Greg said, and he stood and left enough money to cover the bill and a hefty tip, and they hurried out to his car.
It turned out that Greg had done exactly what Dana had thought he must have. Twenty minutes out of Apple Tree there was a massive home that had been freshly built. The immense gates they drove through before heading down a winding drive to get to the house answered how exactly the house had gotten past the attention of everyone in town. She doubted anyone knew the house was here, sitting on some unused farmland, far from the main road.
They made it in through the front door and into the foyer before Greg turned to her and was kissing her. She let him, placing her hands on his chest, and his strong hands found her hips. He tasted of the wine they had drunk at dinner, and of the gum which he had been chewing since. She parted her lips to him, and their tongues met and danced briefly together, and then he was breaking the kiss, and Dana found herself disappointed. The disappointment didn’t last long. Greg moved one hand up, fingers trailing over her dress along her stomach, up over a breast until he reached her skin. Then those fingers curled into the front of her dress and pulled, forcing the material down, and freeing both of her breasts. She wore no bra, the dress wouldn’t allow it, and Greg bent, and his lips were on one of her rosebud nipples, and she felt it harden against his tongue.
“Oh,” she said, a long moan as he sucked on her nipple. His hand found her other breast, fingers pinching and rolling the nipple there. She reached for the back of his head, fingers sliding through the short curling hair there. “Bed,” she groaned.
“No,” he said, straightening and looking at her. The front door stood open behind him, and he was framed in silver moonlight. Behind her was a grand staircase, leading up to the second floor. The ground here was hard; it looked as though it might be polished marble, and Dana almost balked when he commanded her. “On your knees,” he said.
But she didn’t resist him. She knelt down, her bare knees going to the hard floor. She reached for his fly, knowing what he wanted, but he slapped her hands softly away. “With your mouth,” he said after he used one practiced hand to unbutton his fly.
Dana leaned forward, her large breasts heaving in the dim light, the breeze coming in through the door causing her arms and chest to erupt in goosebumps. Her lips brushed against the fly of his jeans, and then she curled them back and used her teeth to take his zipper and tug it down. She reached up again, but he grabbed her by the back of the hair and pulled her away.
“Don’t touch my cock with anything but your mouth or your pussy, do you understand?”
Dana nodded. She looked up at the man as he reached down and pulled his cock out through his open fly. His member was massive, throbbing in the air, red and angry with veins running along it.
Greg still had a hold of her brown hair, and he tugged her close. The bulbous head of his cock pressed against her cheek. He pulled her into a better position, and it pushed against her lips. He was pulling her hair so hard it hurt, and she felt her eyes water. She didn’t want him to stop. She opened her mouth, intending to tease him, intending to take him slowly into her wet oral orifice, but the rich man had other ideas. She knew he wasn’t a man used to waiting; she knew he was the kind of man who would always get his way. He was rich, a self-made billionaire, and he was going to fuck her mouth.
He held her head still with one hand and thrust his hips forward. His cock was buried in her mouth, pushing against the back of her throat. She gagged, mascara ran down her cheeks. His balls slapped against her chin, and then he was pulling out of her mouth. Before he fell fully away from her lips, he thrust forward again. He was using her, fucking her mouth roughly, the way a man who couldn’t contain himself would fuck a pussy. She slobbered and cried and wanted it. He was using her, Dana, the vanilla sex girl who owned a sex shop, who was always on the bottom, who always spit and never swallowed. He fucked her mouth, and she loved it.
She thought he would finish that way, thrusting in and out of her mouth, feeling her pillowy lips on the sides of his massive penis. But then he pulled away from her, a long string of saliva connecting them for a minute, the spit stretching from her bottom lip to the head of his cock, which bobbed once more in the air. He was still gripping her by the hair, and he lifted her up, so she was standing. He kissed her, her wet mouth, slick with her spit and his own precum, their tongues playing in the mess together.
And then he was pushing her backwards, towards the staircase, and she thought he would take her up it, to his bedroom, but he didn’t do that. He turned her around just as her heels came into contact with the bottom stair, and then he pushed her over. She went to her knees on the third step, and he knelt on the second.