The Proposal Ch. 01

"You like it?"

"I love it!"

"I meant the outfit."

"How you gonna ask me something like that when you are sitting here flashing me."

"The thong is part of the outfit."

"You are a dirty little girl, you know that? All I'm trying to do is bring the destitute people of Monroe a mall, and here you come, about to suck my brain through my dick."

"You bring it out in me. And besides, I'm from Lincolnton, we don't even have a mall yet."

"Well, I'll work on that."

Her legs wrapped around his head, pulling him down into her pussy. She knew what he wanted to do, and happily obliged. It was only seconds, then he had her thrashing around on his desk, her pussy flooded with juices, sparks racing up and down her spine as he dove in.

His tongue was strong and powerful, fucking in and out of her, sucking her clit, nibbling it. His hands seemingly were everywhere at once, touching, caressing, feeling, pinching. She was moaning, crying, screaming, begging for more, begging for him to stop, cursing, her hands flailing about, pulling him in deeper with her legs.

It was like being tossed about by the surf, wave after wave crashing into her, taking her places she had never been without him. He pushed his tongue in deep, then pulled it back and concentrated on her clit, tattooing it, then moving back in, back and forth, moving to a beat only he could hear, one that she felt pulsating in her body as he toyed with her, leaving her a blathering mess on his desk.

When he stopped she smiled down at him, letting him pull her into his lap. She kept her legs up over his shoulders, sliding right down on to his cock. She groaned as he filled her, pulling her top up around her shoulders to expose her tits. He was bouncing her on his lap like a little rag doll, her tits jiggling all around as he pinched her nipples.

The whole thing had a certain pornographic quality to it, so she got into it, making all the appropriate noises, playing with her tits, squeezing his cock with her pussy. He was moaning with her now, fucking her deep and hard. He slid one hand under her hips, lifting her ass to get deeper into her, making her cry out.

It was a beautiful union of two people who wanted to please each other, their bodies sweating, their minds focused on the pleasure they were giving their partner, the moment seemingly stretching forever, his cock pounding up and into her, driving her crazy.

He got into it with her, but by now the noises were real, her eyes rolled back in her head with the orgasms racing through her. He always seemed to last forever the second time round, like being screwed by a vibrator powered by the energizer bunny. Her legs were shaking, and her whole body joined in when he shot his load in her, screaming out loud.

They both had to catch their breath, kissing all over. Slowly he eased her legs down, holding her close. She got more kisses for her trouble, then he pointed her towards one of the two doors she had noticed when she came in. Behind it she found a small bathroom, and took the time to clean up, before coming back in. He was in the process of cleaning up his desk, and she joined in, not really sure where any of the papers went, or what they meant.

"You a mind reader?"

"No, that a job requirement?"

"Not really, but I was thinking how nice it would be to see your sweet ass, and then you called."

"Well, you know. I can't stay away too long, little Jonathan misses me." They both laughed, and then kissed again. She walked around the desk, and brought up the Internet on his computer. "You get in trouble for surfing non work related sites at work?"

"You think I do?"

"Guess not." He did have his name on the wall, she remembered. "Get me one of these. All good call girls have one." She turned the screen, showing him what she had heard about last night.

"How would you know?"

"Did some research. I have friends who've been with sugar daddies before."

"Is that what I am?"

"Well, what do you want me to call you to my friends?'

"What do I call you to my friends?" He thought that was a pretty good reply, fully expecting that his relationship speech had killed this topic.

"Your sweet piece of ass. Or your call girl. I like call girl."

"Really?" That took him by surprise.

"Yeah. I'm your call girl, you are my sugar daddy." She slowly stalked back around the desk, letting him watch her come. She knew fully well that he could not resist the smoldering look in her eyes, the flow of her hair around her face and shoulders, the way her hips swayed, and the way her tits seemed to come towards him as she approached him. The way his breath quickened told her as much. Slowly she wrapped her arms around him, kissing him long and hard.

"You said it yourself, I'm not some dumb bimbo. I know what I'm doing. And I'm doing you. As much as you want. I put in my two weeks notice at work. I'm all yours. I've been in college for almost three years, and I have enough credits to say that I'm almost a sophomore in accounting. Yay. I'm done wasting time screwing around. The only thing getting screwed is you. So you are going to put me through school. And I'm going to put you in happy land, whenever you say the word."

She kissed him again, reaching down and squeezing his cock. He moaned softly into her lips. "You know my cell phone number, call whenever you want some."

"You are amazing."

"And all yours. Got time to break in that couch?"

Jessica was the resident cook, based on the fact that she loved to be in the kitchen and her two friends would rather gouge out their own eyes with rusty spoons then attempt to burn the place down by touching something that might produce heat. So Amber and Tammy just sat around the counter that was the border to Jess's domain, a place they were only allowed to enter when told to.

Sometimes they would study, smelling the fragrances of whatever it was they would soon be devouring, but most of the time they just sat and talked, the way that girls in college will. They were all twenty one, and all had been in college for at least two years, and each of them had changed majors at least once. Like most students trying to achieve a B-something or another in one thing or something different, the road for them was not as straight and narrow as advertised, but rather swooping and swinging.

"So…what is his name again?" Tammy was on her fourth major in three years, and contemplating changing again. Her main problem was that she had no staying power.

"Jonathan." Amber was only on her second, but not really because she loved it, but more because accounting was a business that was not going to go away anytime soon, and promised a reasonable chance of the steady income and quality of life that she sought.

"He's not married, is he?" Neither Tammy nor Jessica had been big fans of David, her former married lover. It had been a textbook infidelity arrangement, with him telling her that he would leave his wife, stringing her along until she realized that he was not going anywhere, not while he could tag her during the day or whenever he snuck away, and then go home and impregnate his wife.

"No, he's not. Divorced, couple years ago. Did I tell you guys that he speaks Portuguese?" If there was one sore spot to her relationship with him, it was the ex-wife. He never mentioned her, and she only seen one picture of her at his place, but she was a stunningly beautiful woman, what you would expect from a Brazilian after seeing Heidi Klum in a magazine.

"Yeah, you mentioned it. You also mentioned that he is good friends with this Rick guy." A side benefit to knowing Jonathan was the amazing variety of people he was friends with. All three girls were now regulars at Work Out World! (referred to as WOW in conversation), where Rick was a personal trainer who always had time for friends of Mr. Games.

"He is, why, you want his phone number?"

Jessica smiled a coy smile, turning away. If there was a girl with absolutely no sexual aggression in her, it was Jessica. At least until you got her behind closed doors. Everybody here had heard her scream and curse when anybody got her into a bedroom. And she had a particular thing for black men. Especially massive black men with forearms like a normal persons thigh. Rick fit the bill perfectly.

"I'll see what I can do." Amber wrote it down in her day planner, which brought another question from Tammy. "So…what's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well…let's see. We used to have to beat you to go to the gym. Now you go at least four times a week. You are concentrating on school, and your grades are getting way better. You have a day planner, for gods' sake! By the way, can I borrow your Gucci boots tonight?"

Amber threw her head back, laughing out loud. Her first shopping spree with Jonathan had been last weekend, a day spent at the exclusive South Park Mall. She had been to South before, mainly to look at all the things she could not afford. He had started of small, in his world, buying her a diamond tipped stud for her belly button. She had been a fan of the stainless steel barbell, but why not? She figured that would be it, but he was only warming up.

It had been a continuous battle all day long, with her saying no, him smiling, and then waving his AmEx card. She did not know how much he ended up spending, but she knew it was over her strong objections, and way too much. She had told him that she did not like shopping, and she had meant it. He had not believed it at first, but by the end of the day he had admitted that she was right. Making the pleasure of spoiling her that much more exquisite. But once it was here, well, why not enjoy it?

"Sure. Don't scratch them, though. I haven't even worn them yet. And I don't know. There are only two things going on, him and school. So I'm focused."

"On both?"

"Oh yeah. He makes it easy." She even had him penciled in for the next day.

She had never been to a silent auction, but the concept seemed pretty fun. Go to an art gallery, write down numbers, sip champagne, and eventually go to dinner. She had not counted upon the beauty of the art, and the effect it had on her.

They wandered through the gallery, moving from piece to piece. He asked what she thought, and they would talk about it, the conversation going from factual to flirting to down right dirty and back in the turn of sentences. It was turning her on, and she told him so. He only smiled, and they moved on, his arm around her waist, feeling the heat from her skin through the dress.

"Can I ask you something?" She was looking around, and realized that she was not the only young woman who had come on the arm of an older gentleman.

"Anything sweety."

"How many of your friends have a trophy piece?"

He stopped, and turned her to face him. His kiss was soft and gentle, leaving her wanting more, pushing onto her tipsy toes to chase down his retreating lips to get what she sought. He gave it to her, and she pushed against him, her tits mashing into his chest.

"Well…I don't know. I do know that many of them have mistresses. I think the more successful and rich you get, the more likely it is. It's like buying another car. One hundred grand on a Porsche, or that much for some young thing with big tits. You'll drive the car a couple of times, then it is just a car. Or you can ride her for a couple of months, and then move on."

She nodded slowly, letting his words sink in.

"You, by the way, are not a trophy piece." They were heading into the next room, and he nodded to a man who had brought a young Asian lady with him. "You are my call girl." They kissed again, but she said nothing.

It wasn't until later that night at the Thai place he brought her for dinner, another place where he was greeted like royalty, that he could not stand the rolling in her eyes anymore, and asked her what she was thinking.

"What you said earlier. When this is over, what is going to happen?"

"I'll decide when I'm moving on, and we'll part ways friends. Or maybe you get tired of dealing with my cranky self, and you walk away. But I still hope we can be friends. You're fun to be around."

"Thanks." She smiled at him, her leg tracing up his under the table. "My friends want to know if you know anybody else looking for a call girl."

"You becoming a Madame now?"

She laughed out loud, a crystal clear laugh that always brought happiness to his face, a deep laugh that had her tits jiggling in the small dress, her foot vibrating against his crotch. He needed some more of that.

"No, no. It's like I have a great new boyfriend, and everybody wants to know if he has a brother."

"I'll ask around. I have something for you in the car."

She gave him a scowl. "No more presents."

"Why not?"

"I don't know! You spend to much on me as it is!"

"Amber…it is nothing. I gave a hundred grand to the Humane Society the other day, its nothing."

"You like animals that much? I didn't know that."

"I don't, not really. But I like tax refunds, and I like their donation to production ratio."

"Jonathan…you are a sweet man…"

"With too much money. Ride the gravy train while it lasts honey." He stopped himself, but she did not notice.

After dinner they parked up by City Park, and he reached into the back, handing her the box. She undid the wrapper, pulling out another box, this one black and velvet. Pulling it open, she found the panties she had shown him on his computer that day in his office. Giggling, she felt the stubs that would reach up into her pussy, running her finger up the string that went up her ass, feeling the thin, flexible wire that was the antenna.

"They are not the exact ones you showed me. These are more advanced."

"Really?"

"You'll see."

She kissed him, long and hard, squeezing his cock. "Hold still." She climbed over onto him, sliding the seat back with fast fingers. Reaching behind herself, she hit the buttons for the satellite radio. He did not recognize the song, it was some kind of Rap, but a quick glance at the display told him it was 2Pac.

She was dancing on his lap, the dress slowly easing upwards until it was off, her tits swaying freely before his face.

"Ever frequent strip clubs?"

"Could never see paying for something I couldn't take home."

"Now you don't need to, you have your own personal stripper."

Slowly she released his cock, sliding up and down on his lap, her tits in and out of his face. She was a beautiful dancer; he had to admit, even working in such cramped spaces as this. Her movements were with the beat of the song, and her movements along his cock were driving him mad.

It wasn't long, then he was inside, and she was riding him like a wild bull. Her screams echoed around the car as she took him higher, higher, higher, fucking him senseless, making him beg, her tits almost smothering him. It was heaven, a piece of heaven in his car, and he did not want it to end. They steamed up the windows, she let him blow it in her pussy then sucked him clean, and finally he turned the car towards her place.

"The bed you bought me got delivered the other day."

"You like it?"

"Why don't you come up and try it for yourself?"

"Trying to kill me?"

She purred, softly kissing his cheek. "You know, you can stay over. I'm ok with that."

He smiled at her, his fingers nervously tapping the steering wheel. He was not sure when, where, or how it had happened. But somewhere along the line, power had shifted to the woman sitting next to him. The sweet little vixen with the magical pussy and the mystical eyes had slipped herself into his life, into his soul, and now he could not live without her. It was his discipline that kept up the few walls he had left, manned the last barriers and defenses. So he shook his head. "No. You have school tomorrow morning, and I have to go to work. If you screw me again, I'll be useless. Besides, I have a conference call on building a mall in Lincolnton tomorrow. You don't want to screw that up, do you?"

She smiled. "Speaking of school. I'm going to have a night class next semester. I couldn't get into the one in the morning, but I need the class to move on in accounting. So you'll have to get your fix on alternate days."

"What do you mean, a night class?"

She explained the way the school assigned times to go online and register for class, and how she had been just about last, due to her low class standing. "So by the time I got to register, the spots in the morning class were taken."

"That's crap. You still got the time open?"

"Yeah."

"I know the Provost, I'll call him. I'll take care of it."

"You know Provost Jenkins?"

"Yeah."

"Who don't you know?"

"You know students, right?"

"Yeah…."

"Well, in twenty years, those students will be Provosts. They will own restaurants, banks, and businesses. It's the flow of things, young grass hopper."

"Smart ass. Now come upstairs. And I hope you aren't building a mall back home because of what I said."

She took another look at the man who had entered her life, trying to gauge again where he stood. There was something to him, something beneath the surface, something he was trying to keep hidden. There was much about him she did not know, things she did not ask about, or had learned not to ask about. Business was one of those things. He did not like talking about work when he was with her, and she respected that.

"Because of what you said I had some studies dug out. There was a company three years ago that wanted to do it, but financing fell through, and the group almost went bankrupt over it. We are trying to buy their development plans and survey rights."

"I'm going to ask a question. It means nothing. It is just something that popped into my head."

"Shoot."

"Do you own a plane? You spend all this money on nothing, you seem like you would own a plane."

"Yes. I have a yacht, too. And a house in Aspen, if you are going to ask that next."

"So I guess you have a pilot, too?"

"Yes, but I can fly it myself."

"I guess you're already a member of the mile high club, then?"

"I'll initiate you soon enough."