At Home Late CH 50

Trust the plan.
“I wonder if your friend is one of the men who messaged me,” I drawl. “Asking to
meet.”
Tristan stiffens, the tempo of his breath changing. Growing harsher. The fire
crackles on the opposite end of the office. And then he does something I’m not
expecting, but excites me beyond my wildest dreams. He flips up my skirt and
spanks me. Hard.
“Cock teasing little brat,” he grunts, slapping his palm against my other cheek,
ripping a gasp from my mouth, my fingers turning to claws on the desk. “You will
take yourself off this fucking site. Immediately. You’ll delete every message you
received. And I’m going to watch you do it. You’re going to sit that hot little ass
right in Big Daddy’s lap and take it all the
hell down.”
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Hande. My Stepfather And His Best Friend
I want to tell him yes. Yes, I’ll do it.
Especially because he called himself Big Daddy. Treating me like his wayward little
girl, just like I’ve dreamed about for so long. I want to scream my agreement and
make him happy and be a good girl. But I can’t do that yet. Not yet. Not until he
claims me himself.
“No.“I whimper. “You can’t make me.”
“Oh yes I can.” I’m tumed over and crowded up onto the desk. He looms so close,
I have no choice but to open my thighs for him, my femininity clenching when he
steps between them, pressing his hard shaft flush to my cleft. “You don” t need
the money, Lia. Why?”
“I do need it.” I wet my lips, hating that I have to lie. “M–my father keeps me on
too short a leash. I want more spending money. Not that I owe you an
explanation.”
“Don’t you, baby?” He ducks his head, breathing hard against the side of my
neck. “Don’t you owe me an explanation, after treating me to little peeks of tits
and ass for months? After you flashed me that airtight pussy on my kitchen
counter?”
My thighs flex involuntarily around his bulky hips, my nipples throbbing now.
Painfully. “You have a filthy mouth, Mr. Hemsworth. I had no idea.”
“Take down the profile,” he says with forced calm, his lips traveling up the side of
my neck to bury in my hair, his hands inching higher and higher up the outside of
my thighs. “You want spending money? I’ll get you a credit card. Cash. Whatever
you want. But you don’t respond to any of those men. You take your beautiful
image off the site.”
Almost there.
I can’t believe it, but we’re almost there. He’s touching me, offering me money.
It’s happening.
Once we have an agreement, we’ll have time. Time alone. To finally get to know
each other as adults. I’ll finally be able to show him how good we can be
together,
I run my hand down the length of his tie, tugging gently. “Are you offering to be
my sugar daddy, Mr. Hemsworth?”
“What?” he barks, his head coming up. Eyes flashing. “Absolutely not. I’ll give you
the money without strings. I’m not making a teenager fuck me for cash.”
Make me?
Is he crazy? I’m practically begging.
Push a little more.
“I won’t take your money without giving something in return.”
“Lia. No,” Even as he supposedly turns down my offer, he takes his hands down
over my breasts, plumping them in his hands. Teasing my already stiff nipples
between his thumb and forefinger “Jesus Christ, these tits…they make me so
goddamn hot.”
That admission dampens my panties even more. So close.
Ever so slightly, I tug him forward by the tie, planting my mouth against his ear.
“There are a lot of reasons a man like you would want a sugar baby.” Slowly, I let
go of his tie, lean back slightly and peel off my tank top, watching a violent
shudder pass through him at the sight of my bare breasts. I draw his hands to
them, urging him to mold the mounds in his strong grip and a wet spot appears
on the fly of his pants, that massive chest heaving. “For one, you don’t have time
to date. But you still deserve pleasure, don’t you?” I find his erection with my
hand, rubbing the now–wet material up and down, earning a guttural moan from
his mouth. “And with so much money, Big Daddy, why not get that plear virgin?
Don’t you want a little girl all your own?”
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Handle My Stepfather And His Best Friend
“Goddammit, no. A virgin?” His hands leave my breasts and grip my hips, as if
he’s trying to convince himself to push me away. Instead, he yanks me up against
his big body forcefully, dislodging my hands from his arousal. “Ah Jesus. No. I
can’t. I can’t. I could be your father.”
“No. But you can be my Big Daddy.” I open my thighs wider around his hips,
arching my back enticingly. “Big Daddy gets to put it anywhere.”
I have no sexual experience. I’m just a flirt.
But I can sense Tristan is on the verge of something extraordinary. His back is
beginning to hunch, his fingers clutching and unclutching my hips. The color of
his face deepens, his eyes squeezing shut. Nostrils flaring.
“You’d own my mouth. You’d own all of me,” I whisper. “I’m on the pill so you
don’t have to pull out or use a condom.” And then he makes a choked sound,
ramming his hips up between my thighs. Just once. And he bellows into my neck,
grinding down, down, his hefty frame shaking against me. Straining. Dampness
blooms on the front of his pants, so much moisture that it drenches my panties,
making them cling to my sex. All I can do is take it, let him soak me, my mouth
open in utter shock and joy, my hands stroking his broad back soothingly.
“Get it all over me, Big Daddy. I’m your good girl.”
Another bellowing moan and more release soaks the fly of his dress pants, his
shaft jerking behind the zipper, his grip bruising on my hips. His mouth kisses my
neck reverently, just once, and then unexpectedly, he tears himself away from me,
taking a pocket square from the back pocket of his pants and wiping his forehead
and upper lip, his gaze hot and a little wild on the spot between my splayed
thighs. “Take the profile down. Now.”
“Does this mean
“Yes,” he heaves, raking a hand down his face. “I’ll be your…sugar daddy.”
I come very close to crying.
I’ve loved him so long.
Now I get to kiss him, be with him, spend time together the only way a no–
nonsense businessman like him would ever allow. Under a contract. I want to
throw myself into his arms, but I can tell he’s stunned by the force of his reaction
to me. Knowing I need to give him time to acclimate to our new relationship, I
put my tank top back on and hop off the desk, turning toward the monitor of his
computer. A few key strokes later and the profile has been deleted.
“There,” I say, blinking back at him over my shoulder. “I’m taken.”
Still not breathing normally, Tristan jerks his wallet from his front right pocket
and removes every bill in the fold. A giant stack of hundreds. And hands it to me.
“Until I can make arrangements.”
Guilt tries to pervade my belly, but I ignore it. Tristan is a multi–billionaire. There
is no limit to what he can afford. Plus, I remind myself, he would never agree to a
normal relationship with me. He’s a man of rules and structure. I should know,
I’ve been infatuated with him since I was twelve. There is no cheating at board
games under his roof. No dessert before dinner. He needs things outlined
perfectly and that’s why this plan will work. Until I can convince him we can have
a real relationship. No money involved. Just love.
“Thank you,” I say, going up on my toes to kiss him softly on the mouth. “I’ll wait
for you to call.” Another kiss, followed by a gentle bite of his full bottom lip. “I
think of you non–stop.”
He groans, staggering toward me and kissing me back, inhaling me, really, before
breaking away as if shaken. More than anything, I want to be held in his arms,
especially after my first sexual experience, but I know how to quit while I’m
ahead. I’ve gotten what I came for and I better leave before Tristan’s conscience
gets the better of him. So with one more kiss of his masculine mouth, I fix my
clothes as much as possible and leave the office, already counting the seconds
until my phone rings.
I pace the floor of the hotel suite, stopping at the window and looking out over
the bright lights of the city s always been an honorable man. As decent as one
can possibly be while maintaining his success in the world
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seconds until my phone rings.
I pace the floor of the hotel suite, stopping at the window and looking out over
the bright lights of the city skyline. I’ve always been an honorable man. As decent
as one can possibly be while maintaining his success in the world of finance. I
don’t gamble, drink heavily or womanize and I keep my word. Yet here I am,
waiting for an eighteen–year–old girl to arrive so I can pay her for sex.
Looking at my reflection in the window, I know damn well that paying Lia is the
only way I’d ever get the privilege of having her beneath me. We’re old and
young. Big and small. Coarse and smooth. Because of that, there is something
comforting about the fact that I’ll be compensating her. When she arrives, I plan
to outline our agreement in a clear, concise manner and that will help, too.
Having a detailed understanding. A mutually beneficial venture is something!
understand. Maybe after we’ve met privately a few times, I’ll stop feeling this
sweaty, horny shame for wanting to ride a girl twenty–seven years my junior.
Wanting to get my dick into her so bad, my briefs are twisted around the turgid
flesh, my balls like two tight knots.
I’ve booked the presidential suite at the Fairbourne and the bed waits silently in
the other room, taunting me. Am I really doing this? Am I really a sugar daddy
now?
Ever since Lia came to my office and I came in my pants like a school boy, I’ve
done some research and these.
better. If arrangements are not unusual. In fact, they’re common for men of my
ilk. That doesn’t make me feel any anything, I feel worse.
Lia is the furthest thing from common. She’s bright and sharp and warm. Her
laughter has always been a source of joy in my home. Her wit can match anyone.
She’s always fussing over me, telling me I work too much. Bringing glasses of
warm milk or herbal tea to my office when I’m working late and she’s hanging
out with Eric
Eric.
Jesus, how would I explain this to my son?
That I’m out of my mind with lust for his best friend since middle school. He
would think I’m a sick motherfucker–and maybe I am. I barely made it twenty
minutes after Lia sailed out of my office before I started making arrangements for
she the following night. I’ve been watching the clock, waiting for this. Aching.
Jesus, the things she said to me. The way tugged me off through my pants, her
perky tits on unabashed display. I’ve never been so hard in my life, throat closing,
palms sweating, spine in a vise. She owned me.
And afterward..
I’ve never wanted to hold someone so badly.
Lia has always been the breezy one. She has a quip and a wink for everyone. But
she was vulnerable sitting there on my desk. She needed…
Christ, I can’t believe I’m even thinking this.
She needed her Big Daddy.
She needed me to rock her against my chest and kiss her forehead. I’ve never had
this kind of relationship with anyone, nor have I wanted one. Where I’m the father
figure and the lover. With Lia…I don’t know. It feels inevitable. Feels right Like
something we both need very badly. I’ve regretted not rocking and soothing her
since she left my office and I won’t have those same regrets after she leaves
tonight.
Our plan was to meet at nine o’clock and there is still ten minutes to go.
I turn from the window, planning on pouring myself a drink, when my phone
rings.
Work.
I’ve never let a work call go unanswered in my life. It’s how I’ve built an empire.
And I’m not changing now, even if the board member’s name flashing on the
screen of my phone causes something acidic to flare in my chest. It and assuage
the man’s concerns about the price of wheat skyrocketing in China due to a
storm destroying
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of the country’s crops. I assure him that we’ve already maximized the
world of finance–and end the call with him calmed down. But by that time, there
is a pounding in my temple. I toss my phone onto the closest surface and
massage the throbbing spot, trying to remember the last time I wasn’t stressedThere’s a knock at the door.
Every ounce of blood in my body rushes south, my mouth drying up.
I’m moving to the entrance before I acknowledge the command to my feet, trying
to come up with something to say that won’t make me sound desperate. Even
though I am. God, I just want to spread out on her hot, little body and pump the
stress away. But when I open the door and see the beautiful blonde standing
there in what amounts to sheer tights, a T–shirt and high heels, I can’t deny there
is a throbbing in the center of my chest, too. A sweeping of relief and comfort
mixed in with desire.
Lia purses her lips and cocks a hip. “You’re working, aren’t you?”
I clear my throat hard. “I took one call.”
And just like that, here I am answering to a teenage girl about my work habits.
Lia shakes her head at me and saunters forward, into the room, closing the door
behind her. She tosses her purse onto the entry table, reaching up to loosen my
tie and that sense of relief multiplies, the pounding in my temple slowly ebbing.
“You have to leave the office where it belongs sometimes.” I open my mouth to
speak, but she keeps going. “Yes, I know you have to be aware of what’s
happening in every corner of the globe every second of the day, but you also
have to care for yourself.” She throws my tie over her shoulder. “We need to
realign these chakras. If you aren’t balanced in your personal life, your
professional one will eventually teeter and topple. We can’t have that, can we?”
My lips are twitching.
Damn. When was the last time I smiled?
The power this little girl has over me.
“My chakras,” I repeat, leaning back to look her over Fuck. Now that she’s inside, I
can see those black, see–through tights end just below the hem of her T–shirt. If
she bent forward, those sweet curves of her buns would be right there for the
taking–and oh, I plan to take.
Hard
“Yes, your chakras.” Her expression is very solemn. Even a little worried. For me.
“You can’t see what I see, Big Daddy.” Nimble fingers dance over my shoulders,
digging into pressure points and massaging. “All this locked–up tension.”
Her fingers find a knot and I groan, “That’s what you’re here for, Lia.”
Is she blushing? This girl who seduced me in my office? “Yes, I am.” She chews on
her luscious lip a moment. “But I was thinking…when was the last time you went
out?”
“Out where? To eat? I had a business dinner earlier this week.”
“Let me rephrase. When was the last time you went out when it wasn’t work–
related?”
I flip back through my mental calendar containing engagements from the last
year and I can’t think of a single time I did anything if money wasn’t on the line. “I
don’t know.”
Her blue eyes flicker with sympathy, then determination. “Come on.” She picks up
her purse, hanging it on her shoulder. “Let’s go.”
“Lia.” Shaking my head, I catch the front of her T–shirt and haul her up against
me. “No more of your cock teasing. I need to fuck you. Badly.”
“I know,” she breathes–and there’s that vulnerability again. It makes her look
startlingly young. Innocent. Ali in front of her Big Daddy. “……”
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