“I’m coming,” Cherry groaned, the blood rushing to her head since she was bent over, adding a strange pleasure to everything.
When she spoke, David pulled his cock out of her, and she was disappointed, but the man knelt down and pressed his face to her pussy, his tongue sliding into her body as he reached up to rub her clit with the pad of his index finger.
Her orgasm was the most intense she had ever felt. Her whole body shook; her stomach felt as though it was folding in on itself. She groaned aloud, and her juices flowed. When it was over she expected David to stand up, to slide into her again, but instead he sat down on the couch and pulled her over to him. She turned so she was facing him and straddled his lap, her knees on the couch on either side of him.
Cherry lowered herself slowly, bringing David’s cock into her pussy once more. This new position felt even better than the last, and she knew there was a chance she could come again. She bent and pressed her lips to his. His lips and chin were wet and shiny with her own juices, but she didn’t care. She tasted him, and she tasted herself.
She bucked on his lap quickly, pulling down so fast that their skin slapped together when they met. David’s hands were on her ass, kneading the flesh there, squeezing it and pulling it. When she stopped kissing him, he leaned forward, taking a nipple eagerly into his mouth.
She came again, throwing her head back as it suddenly overtook her. She soaked his cock, her juices leaking out and running down his member, soaking his wiry shock of pubic hair. It was all too much for him, and he was finally coming, his massive cock jumping inside her, spraying his load. He grunted, his hands on her hips, pulling her down and holding her still as he came. When it was over, she crawled off him and started to laugh.
He laughed too. “What’s so funny?” he asked.
“I don’t know why I was putting that off for so long,” Cherry said, unable to contain her giggles. The couch was soaked with sweat and cum, so David led her to the bedroom. They slept, entwined with one another, and she woke early in the morning, seeing just an edge of orange along the side of the closed blinds of the nearest window. She woke him up by taking his cock into her mouth.
4
The second time they had sex it was more like making love: slow and tender, kissing, him on top. Afterward, they showered together, and he surprised her by having yet more cum ready. She swallowed it, kneeling in front of him as the hot water splattered against the back of her head.
They had breakfast, which was prepared by David’s personal chef, while wearing fuzzy robes, and then he got dressed in his room. Cherry stood and watched him.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“I need to take care of this,” David said. “I won’t be long. Stay here and I’ll be back.”
Cherry thought of something that had happened that morning, in the dawn as they made love. It was his accent. He had always sounded American, but that morning, as he had moaned and said sweet nothings to her as he came inside her for the second time, he had sounded different.
“You’re Russian,” she said with a grin.
David laughed and nodded. “I am.”
“You don’t usually sound like it.”
“Not many people know I wasn’t born here. I thought it would be a weakness.”
“It was pretty hot,” Cherry said.
David laughed again. “I’ll remember that,” he said in his natural accent, the words heavy and slow with a Russian twang. Cherry grinned and clapped her hands together. Then she got serious. “Are you going to be okay?”
David laughed and stood. He had been sitting on the end of his bed, tying his shoes. He took her hands in his. “I’ll be fine. I’ll take care of Nathan; you can go back to your life.”
Cherry smiled and kissed him. “Thank you,” she said, and then he left.
Only a few hours later, she would know there wasn’t much of a chance of going back to her life. It had changed, and it would continue to.
Inside the apartment, two men were with her, along with the personal chef, who was preparing lunch already. The men were unknown to her, the day shift, guys she had never seen with David in the club. They were both young, one with a buzzed head and one with longer blond locks. Neither of them spoke to her. They just stood near the front door in expensive suits.
She felt awkward in David’s apartment without him, and she stayed in the bedroom most of the time. Lunch came, and David wasn’t yet back, so she sat at the table alone and was served a pasta dish with fresh-baked bread and a small bowl of butter. She declined wine, instead drinking water.