Tasting Candy: Over 60 Erotic Pregnancy Stories

“Now that is a very, very sexy name,” I said, though suddenly I’m finding myself very hungry. Holy fuck that’s a lot of money. A guy that looks this good definitely should not have that much money too. It’s not fair to the rest of the world.

My fingers go to his tie, playing with it, “So why not a regular bar, huh?”

“Because you weren’t in it,” he said boldly, his two big hands coming around me to cup my ass cheeks, his steely eyes locked on mine. “I said I was after the most beautiful girl I could find. And this is where she is,” he declared.

My fingers teased along his jawline as the song switches over and I stand up.

“Ohh, knowing the future would definitely be handy for the military,” I agreed with another light giggle. It’s not often I meet a guy who is both gorgeous, rich, and can make me blush. But he definitely held that power.

His eyes only left mine once again as I started to dance, enjoying the movement of my body like only the best clients can.

“Tell me about it,” he responded after a bit of time enjoying my movements. “That’s what got me where I am, intuition. But this is the first time it’s really paid off in leading me to a gorgeous girl,” he said with approval. “You move like a pro, but you look like a fresh faced angel,” he remarked of me, the big guy sounding a bit smitten.

Teasing and pleasing a normal guy was always a thrill, but being able to turn a guy so out of my leagues into a puppy was always a rare treat.

And he looked, and smelled, and felt like a rare treat. Not like those bad boy rockers who are perfectly content to pump and dump into anything with a pussy, not like those old money snobs who think they’re better than everyone.

Aron was young, hot, and clearly brilliant. No dumb man makes four billion off the military, and my fingers went to the back of his neck, sharing a breath with him for a moment.

“I feel like a very lucky girl, then. To have caught your eye.”

“Then we’re both lucky this evening,” he said with that handsome, wry smile of his, his two big hands -- a bit hard, not soft like every other wealthy man I’d dealt with -- touching me. “Say, would you be all that offended if I asked you to just sit in my lap, wrap your arms around me and enjoy a bit of your company more personally?” he asked. But there was no risk of offense in how he said it, trust me.

My legs were wrapped around his waist before he even finished speaking, my arms around his neck as my fingers went to his hair. I pressed my breasts into his face, making them jiggle against his flesh. “If you’re a breast man, that’s all you had to say, baby.”

“When it comes to you, I’m finding out I’m an everything-man,” he retorted without delay, those big, strong hands stroking over my smooth skin, feeling me out with great relish. And though he was big, strong, obscenely wealthy and in control, he had a way of making me feel in control. Or at least calm. “But damn if these aren’t the most glorious tits,” he declared, letting his eyes rest upon them as his hands wandered up to cup the pair of breasts in his palms.

“I thought you’d never touch me,” I teased, pulling away just enough so that we could both watch his fingers dig into the pillowy flesh.

“I’ve learned how to savour a moment,” he said with that disarming grin, his big, strong hands not relenting, enjoying the feel of my tits, the way the flesh rippling with his fondling fingers. “I was offered ten million for my company just a year ago,” he confessed to me. “Everyone called me a fool for passing it up. Now I’m a billionaire, and I’ve still got my company,” he said with no undeserved amount of self-satisfaction.

“And the hottest girl in the city in your lap,” I reminded him as I started rolling my hips, grinding in his lap in a slow, teasing manner. My fingers went to his jawline, stroking him tenderly. “What did you want to do to celebrate?”

He was big, broad-shouldered and apparently made of steel-concrete judging by the way his hard muscles felt through his clothes, but when I ground on his lap I made him tremble a little in excitement.

“Hottest girl in the city?” He said, a dubious look on his face. “Try hemisphere, at least,” he said with confidence and appreciation, not holding back the low groan of pleasure that rose from his throat. “As for celebration…” he tongued his lower lip slowly, “all I can think about is a way I can get you out of here and back to my place. Even if the attempt risks me becoming another quaint client, overly smitten with you. I bet you get a dozen of those a night,” he said with wry amusement.

“On a slow night,” I teased back, my fingers going to his hair, nails massaging his scalp. “But they weren’t brought here by destiny, were they.”

That brought delight to his chiselled features, and he gave me a good squeeze in return.

“Ten grand to come back to my place and celebrate with me,” he said boldly, without hesitation. “Not to fuck,” he clarified, “just for your time and company.” But his lips grew into a wry smile, “The fucking would be for fun. If it happens,” he said with the confidence of a man who wasn’t used to losing bets.

I roll my eyes with a matched confidence that I didn’t earn in the same way as him. Oh no, I’d earned that by coming into the strip club five nights a week and working my ass off.

“You can’t tell a girl you’re a billionaire and offer her low five figures,” I giggled, though my lips found his ears, and a conspiratorial whisper crossed them, “You’d at least need to offer me dinner.”

He tilted his powerful neck as I teased his ear with those wispy words, and his hands grasped me all the tighter.

“Dinner, breakfast, you name it,” he rumbled to me so deliciously. “I imagine a gorgeous, talented girl like you will have no trouble wringing more from me over the course of an evening.” He reached down and gave me ass a bit of a smack, a light strike for a man so strong as him. “Twenty thousand, but you’ll have to stick around until morning to let me withdraw the cash. And to take you to breakfast.”

“You’d also have to pay my fees for leaving early,” I chided him, but I couldn’t help but grin.

I’d have easily gone back with him for free, and I have never, ever, ever done that with a client.

“Hardball negotiator,” he said as his eyes nearly shut from the roll of my hips upon his groin. “Mm, but I’m in no position to say no, am I?” he remarked. “Done. It’s a deal,” he declared as his hands slid down to my hips and ass, his fingers sinking into my cheeks.

Honestly, getting out early was only a couple hundred bucks, absolutely nothing compared to what he’d already dropped on me. Mostly, it was just the embarrassment of going home with a client. I’m not the type of girl that did that, so no doubt lips would be flappin’.