Her pussy was wet, slick, yearning for his cock. He pushed her dress up roughly and pulled her panties away with such force that the small thong ripped. He tossed it to the side and grabbed her ass. She felt his hard cock against her slit, and she reached down between her legs so she could guide him into her. As soon as her fingers brushed the skin of his cock, however, he reached forward and grabbed her hair, tugging her head back so violently and painfully that she screamed out.
“I said don’t touch my cock with your hands, you slut,” he whispered, and she nodded as best as she could since he was still holding her hair. She moaned and whimpered, and he let go of her hair. He reached down, taking his dick, wet with her spit, and pushed it into her.
He filled her up, his massive cock pushing into her tight, wet pussy. She groaned, moaned, buried her face into the carpeted stair. He pounded her, having no desire to be nice or sweet or to take it slow. His hands were everywhere, his strong fingers gripping her ass as it slapped against his pelvis. Then he had her hair again and was pushing forward to grope her tits.
She came quickly, screaming out as an orgasm rocked her, wet warmth spreading from her loins to the rest of her body as her pussy walls tightened and contracted against his cock. And still he fucked her.
When he was about to come, he pulled out of her and took her by the hair once more, pulling her roughly down and around, his other hand pumping at himself. And as soon as she was on her ass a stair below him, he came, hot, thick globs of semen spraying from the head of his cock and splashing across her face. One strand fell over her painted lips, another across her left eye. He came on her, his cum thick and warm. And then he walked past her, up the stairs without a word. She leaned back, panting, trying to catch her breath. When he came back down, he was dressed and showered, and she wondered how long she had sat like that.
“You still intrigue me,” he said, sitting next to her. His cum was drying on her face, and the cold air from the open door kept her nipples hard. He reached over and pinched one. “Go take a shower, and then let’s get drunk and do that again.”
She smiled and nodded. Upstairs she found the bathroom and took a shower. After, she was surprised to find he had left a robe for her, folded over the edge of the sink, and she put it on and went back downstairs. She found him in a small room with a bar built into the wall, and he poured them both a drink. They sat together on a small couch, and after they drank and laughed, he fucked her again, him on top, holding her roughly down. He finished first that time, but he instructed her to pleasure herself while he got something, and she did, sliding her fingers in and out of her. When he returned, he had a purple dildo.
“I’m going to fuck you with this,” he said. It was large, bigger than his own enormous dick, and Dana was frightened, but she just nodded. He knelt down between her legs and licked her clit while he pushed the toy in and out of her. It was the second most intense orgasm she’d ever had, the first being the one he had given her on the stairs. If the rich man was intrigued by her, she was doubly intrigued by him.
Later that night they lay in his bed, she accepting his unspoken invitation to stay. She asked him if he ever made love, and he smiled, kissed her, and they did that too. When she woke the next morning, they showered together, going down on one another, and then finally it was time for her to leave. He drove her home, kissing her before she got out of the car, and she watched him drive away.
3
Days passed after the first date, and Dana didn’t hear from Greg. She accepted the fact that it had been a one-night stand, and her life got back to normal. On the next Thursday, however, while Dana was ringing up a customer at her shop, her cell rang. She finished with her customer and then fished it out of her pocket.
“Hey, Dana,” Greg said when she answered.
“Hi,” she said. Simply talking to the man made her heart beat fast, and she felt her palms grow sweaty.
“Are you busy this weekend?” he asked her.
“I work on Saturday, but the shop is closed on Sunday.”
“Can you close it Saturday too?”
“Why?” she asked.
“I want you to come to the city with me. I’ll be there all weekend, but I only have a meeting Saturday morning. I thought we could have some fun,” Greg said.
“What kind of fun?”
Greg laughed. “All kinds of fun.”
“Let me think about it,” Dana said, and they hung up. He called her again later that night after she had closed up her sex shop and returned to her small apartment. By the time he had called, she had already packed a bag.
“I’m in,” she said when she answered.
“Great. I’ll pick you up tomorrow around six.”
Dana hung up and couldn’t stop a smile from spreading across her lips.
She closed the Treasure Chest early the next day and hurried home so she could shower and dress. She once again wasn’t sure how to dress, but she figured for a drive to New York City she should be comfortable, so she settled on shorts and a loose shirt that was cut low enough to show off some cleavage.
Greg picked Dana up in the same cherry red sports car, but once he was on the highway, he headed away from New York.