His Sugar Baby

Carrie Ling laughs at me as I beg her to come back, seven years, it had been a good seven years. She agrees it had been, then reminds me she’d had her turn and now it was her husband’s turn. If she were in the United States she would come back, but working remotely from the time zone of China to Chicago was too much of a strain on her, Mick, and their two kids.

She takes pity on me and helps me go through the files to find the replacement. Mi’schelle Torrance is a name I see with surprise. Carrie claps, laughing, to hear the woman’s name. Carrie hired Mi’schelle, a young woman who had struggled to get an associate degree in business administration. Mi’schelle is entirely self-taught, which isn’t anything new, eighty percent of my staff are self-taught.

What is impressive is Mi’schelle put in her hours at the library, logged as a way of showing her hours spent coding. She hadn’t owned her own computer. She’s from Chicago, her former address in the heart of the southside. With all her hard work and business administration degree, she goes to the top of the pile.

I tell Carrie goodbye and thanks for ruining my company, and hang up. Bringing up Mi’schelle’s computer I go through it. She worked in the office even though she didn’t necessarily have to. I have about a dozen people in various parts of the United States. It didn’t matter to me where my people were, only that they were good. All of the employees signed off, whether they read the fine print or not, to having their work computer monitored.

Over the next two hours I go through her history for the last year. I like what I see. Her programming, bugs found, and the explanation of how she fixed them tells me I’ve found Terry’s replacement. I let Glenda know to begin the process of promoting the woman then turn my attention to the bug.

Problem fixed, I blink and find my office dark. I check the clock in the corner of my screen, damn, nine-thirty. I’ve been at this five hours?

Stretching, my back cracks and my stomach growls, I’m starving. While I shut down, I call down to the security desk for a cab. This late, the business district is a ghost town with no cabs to be found.

In the elevator, I call Anne. “Hey, I’m just leaving work. Can you do me a favor and call down to room service? For a burger and fries, with bacon, lots of bacon, and no onions.”

“No problem.”

“What are you doing?” I hear an odd sound in the background.

“I’m taking a very hot, soothing bath with the jets on.” Remembering what she said this morning, I swallow and nearly fall into the cab waiting for me. “I did some very strenuous yoga this afternoon. I’m feeling very flexible and soothed by these jets and ready for you to be home.”

“Forget the burger. I’m not hungry for food.”

Opening the door to the condo it’s dark, except for the light glowing down the hall from the open door of the master bedroom. The bedside table lamp is on, I like the way she doesn’t hide in the dark.

She’s waiting, covers pulled back, in the center of the bed wearing nothing but a welcoming smile. Her back arches in invitation, “You were gone forever.”

Tearing off my clothes, I wrap a hand around her ankle and yank her down to me. Her legs open wide for me, her hips rising to meet my mouth. “I’m here now. Fuck, you smell so damned good. You taste even better.”

My cock strains at the sight of her pussy, wet for me. I tongue her lower lips, swollen and coated in her need. The taste of her explodes on my tongue and floods my senses, sweet, tangy, a ripe peach juicy at first bite running down my mouth. I love the way she gets so wet she overflows for me, her desire unhidden. She is a heady drug I need more of.

Tonight, I had wanted to take more time, go slowly to better enjoy her. However, it isn’t long before I’m devouring her hungrily, as if I’m starving. She’s crying now, slipping both hands into my hair, begging for her release. I cover her throbbing clit, sucking hard in rhythm with her pounding heartbeat. When she comes she screams, her whole body shaking under my mouth.

Looking down at her, my cock jumps to be inside her now, to feel her around me again. Remembering her fantasy as she touched herself to come for me, what she wanted from me. Rough hands pull her up, placing her into position. She moans, ‘yes,’ pushing her round ass back towards me. Her ass is the kind of perfection that exists in nothing more than a dream. I can’t resist taking a long minute to mold her sweet ripe cheeks as they quiver in my hands.

“Grant, please.” Her gasp is dripping in need. I give her what we both want.

She’s wet, so damned wet, I slide in deep with one hard thrust. Her hands clutch the pillows toward her as she sinks to her chest, leaving only her ass in the air. When I pull out she groans my name. Thrusting inside her, I fight not to come as her pussy grasps my cock. Fuck. She’s so damned tight already, but when she does that she brings my cock to the very edge.

Sliding my hand up to her neck I hold her in place as I take over, fucking her so hard and fast her pussy can only take what I give her. With every furious stroke she begs for more, her breath nothing more than gasps. She comes without warning, burying her face into the mattress as she screams.

I only last a few strokes more as her pussy spasms around my cock. When I come, I fight not to collapse on her as I had last night. She moans as I pull out, her body clutching around my limp cock sends another wave of pleasure through me. Jaw tight, I fall to the mattress, taking her with me, unwilling to let her go.

Anne lets out a breathy moan of satisfaction as she turns and burrows into me, her head on my chest. I’m so fucking glad she can’t see my face as I struggle with the shock of how goddamned intense my feelings are for her. How I want to fuck her all over again and not stop until she is hoarse from screaming for me to stop. How I can’t think of a single woman before her who even came close to giving me as much pleasure as Anne does. How I want to taste every inch of her skin and commit it to memory. How every moment since I saw her has felt like it’s in technicolor and all the years, months, and days before her were in black and white and flat, without texture. What the fuck is going on?

I have no idea how long I’ve been lost in my thoughts. Then Anne moves, her soft lips press into my chest and all the questions disappear. The only thing that matters is the feel of her lips on me. A soft hand moves over my chest, light and curious only skimming along my skin. Her breath quickens when she sees my nipple harden in response to her touch.

I’m caught up in watching her study me, how her tongue sneaks out between her plump lips. A finger runs over my nipple and she smiles as it hardens even further. She looks up to see me watching her and the tip of her mouth goes up. “I didn’t get a chance to really touch you last night. I’ve kind of been wanting to do this all day.”

I run my hand through her hair and marvel at the silver of her eyes, brimming with sexual curiosity. “Anything you want, sweetheart.”

With a happy smile she goes back to the flat nipple she had been playing with. “You are so hard, everywhere.”

“Not right now, but if you keep this up I will be soon.”

Her husky laugh fills the room and my chest until I forget to breathe. Fuck, I want to hear that again, every day. She doesn’t see my reaction, her attention on the light hair surrounding my nipple. “Hmm... you’re so soft then, underneath.”

She trails off as her fingertips find the muscle along the first line of my six pack. Then her tongue is tasting the skin her fingers played over. Lower and lower, taking what feels like hours in her slow study of my body, alternating between soft licks and light kisses until she’s inches from my cock. When she sees it hard, her breath catches.