Perspectives Pt. 1b - Mr. Morgan

Rachel scooted closer to the edge of her chair, "I'm a good girl, Mr. Morgan. I promise."

"Can I trust you?" He asked.

This was girl he and Laci would be with four or five days a week, a family in his neighborhood, the daughter of a friend. Was he risking too much? No, she would do what she is told. He was Mr. Morgan, her boss.

She lowered the straps of her shirt letting it fall to her waist exposing her white bra. "Do you want to see them? I'll let you look at them. So, you know you can trust me."

She had the palest skin. Her freckles covered most of what he'd seen of her until now. Sitting against the black leather chair made her seem like a ghost, something lost to a different time that reemerges unexpectedly in the present. Her stomach pooched and had random patches of close knitted freckles that seemed to group up into larger ones that floated on her soft spectral canvas as if painted there. He wanted to see all of her.

Moving closer, he pushed between her legs, forcing her to move the tight skirt up as her legs spread for him. He moved his hand through her red hair, down her back to the clasp on her bra. With an expert twist, the clasp snapped open and she leaned back slightly. She slowly moved her hands through the straps, and arched her back, revealing herself to him. He moved his hand to squeeze them, to feel their softness but she reached for his belt, and he felt her shaking hands as the buckle released.

He wanted to move her hands out of the way and pull his dick out, to be unrestrained, to feel her body, but watching her slow uncertain movements as his zipper came down was such a turn on he resisted and she finally reached for the elastic band of his boxers, pulling it down finally freeing him.

He watched her face and knew then, with certainty, she had never seen one before. He watched her swallow and her eyes widened. He was big and it surprised most women so she must be in another place right now. Her hand was almost shaking as she reached up. For the third time that day he was on the verge but this time there would be no stopping. She needed know he was in charge.

Grabbing her wrist, he stopped her.

"Rachel, what are doing? Did you ask to touch it?" He stroked her hair with his other hand. It was the prettiest red he'd seen. No dye, just natural, almost orange. He scooted closer forcing her to shift her tight skirt to spread her legs. He moved his hand down her face, under her chin, lifting it so she would look right at him.

"What do you want to do?"

"I want to touch your penis, Mr. Morgan."

He kept his hand under her chin. "No, you can't do that. You can touch my cock. My hard cock. You can touch someone else's penis, but you can only touch my hard cock. Do you understand?"

He was married. He had a girlfriend in Denver. Rachel wasn't going to just have a fantasy with an older married man. She was going to listen to him. She was going to have a fantasy with Lawrence Morgan. She would be his plaything. His good girl.

"Yes, sir. I want... I want to touch your hard cock, Mr. Morgan. I'm a good girl. Can I please touch your hard cock?" She said looking up at him. He was throbbing but he needed more first.

"Lean back so I can see your tits while you jerk me off, Rachel. You don't show your breasts to me. When I tell you to, you'll show me your tits."

"Like this, Mr. Morgan?" She asked leaning back.

She needed to be told what to do. She couldn't know his thoughts; how she could demand anything from him right now and he'd give it to her. He was lost looking at her. Her skirt kept the full canvas out of his reach, but he was finally able to see the tits he'd been peeking at all day. They looked like tear drops that fell on her body when she leaned back. He thought again of how soft they would feel if he cupped them and squeezed them. How they would look if she were on her hands and knees, hanging down, swaying as he fucked her from behind. The natural fall put them slightly off to the sides so that she could squeeze her arms against her sides and push them up. Her nipples were hard but barely visible, and big. He'd never seen anything so naturally beautiful as the girl in front of him.

"What are you doing, Rachel?" He asked.

"I'm showing you my tits, Mr. Morgan. I'm showing you my little tits," She replied.

"Those aren't little, Rachel. Touch it, now."

He watched her move up and reach out her hand. He was as hard as he had ever been in his life; he wouldn't last long, not after this morning and thinking about her tits all day. He flinched as he felt her small fingers grip him softly. She couldn't wrap her hand completely around it. It was then he thought of how small she was -- 5'4" maybe? 110 or so lbs.? He felt the pangs of regret start to creep in, but they moved out as he felt her hand move slightly. If he wanted to stop this would be it. He could say it was an indiscretion and talk to her and keep it a secret; he had money. Maybe that would be enough to...

"I don't know what to do, Mr. Morgan. Will you tell me? I've never done it before. You aren't going to tell, are you?" She asked, wide eyed.

"No, we won't tell anyone anything. Keep moving your hand like that, Rachel. It feels good."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Morgan. I'm your good girl."

He felt the first drops of precum cover his head. There was no going back.

"Do you know what that is, Rachel?"

"Is it semen, Mr. Morgan? Did I do it right then?"

He pushed closer, her legs going wider. He saw the smallest flash of her yellow panties as she spread for him.

"Yes, you are doing it right. That is precum. When you do well, I'll cum for you. Semen is for your books and sex ed classes. Precum happens before you make me cum. Do you want me to cum for you, Rachel?"

"Yes, Mr. Morgan. I want to see you cum,"

His dick was almost wet with it now. He watched her as she looked at it, knowing it was the first one she'd ever seen in person, much less touched. He wanted all of her. He kept imagining her mouth on him, slowly pushing past her lips and feeling her tongue swirl around his tip, watching her take in each inch until she couldn't. How far could he take it?

"Do you want to taste it, Rachel?" He asked as he moved his hand behind her head. He had his fingers laced through her hair and pushed her to him.

"I... I don't want to do that, Mr. Morgan." She looked genuinely sad, like he would be mad at her. He pushed too far but he couldn't stop, not now. He was in charge; he would show her patience and she would do what he wanted in time.

"Then don't. You don't ever do what you don't want. Never let anyone make you." He replied as he moved his hand to her shoulder.

"Do you know what this is called? What you are doing, Rachel?" He was controlling her words, her thoughts. He would have her any way he wanted her. Today was a beginning.

"No, Sir, but you said jerk you off. You wanted to see my tits while I jerked you off. Is that what I'm doing?" A few hours ago, he would never have thought of those words coming out of her mouth. Never be in the position they were in. Now she was putty. His sculpture to remake.

"Yes, you are jerking me off. Now tell me again what you are doing," he demanded. He felt the sweat roll down the side of his face. The room was blazing hot now. Her skirt was all the up and he could see the long red hair underneath her panties. He would make her fix that. She would belong to him.

"I'm jerking off your hard cock, Mr. Morgan." He looked down and saw her hand stroking him, covered in precum. She ran it all the way up to his swollen head, struggling to grip his thickness as the veins swelled and he felt the familiar build up. She could have stopped right then, and he would have cum but he wanted to feel her hand go from his balls to his tip, massaging him for the release.

"Don't stop, Rachel, I'm going to cum on you. Do you want that? I want to cum on your tits." He steadied himself, placing his large hand on her small, freckled shoulder.

"Now, tell me what you want, Rachel?" He felt his phone buzz in his pocket. A text message. It didn't faze him. Not now.

"I want your hard cock to cum on my tits, Mr. Morgan,"

"Tell me to cum for you, Rachel," He felt her hand on his thigh as his muscles tensed and he looked down at her face, her tits shaking with the motion of her arm jerking him off.

"Cum for me, Mr. Morgan. Cum on my little tits so you can feel good."

He barely heard the last part as he exploded. It may have been the longest orgasm of his life. She kept jerking him as cum covered her tits and body. The build up from the day all came out in that short time. He kept convulsing as smaller spurts landed on her legs and stomach. He saw some on her chin but not her face. He wanted to cover her face but not today. She would let him because she would do what she was told. In time.

His phone buzzed again.

He was breathing heavy when he finally loosened the grip on her shoulder and she fell back, covered.

"Am I good girl, Mr. Morgan?" She asked, rubbing the cum over her belly where it had pooled at the top of her skirt.

Through heavy breaths he responded, "Yes, my good girl". He looked at her as he pulled up his pants. Was she still a beautiful canvas? A ghost of memories from his youth? He looked at her covered in his semen and the regret started to come for him. What had he done? What if she said something? He would have to move away. Maybe Lori says it is too much despite their issue with the mob. He had really screwed up. He quickly ran to the bathroom to grab a towel for her. He walked back in and looked at her some more. She took the towel and started wiping her stomach. She had the feintest smile on her face. She wiped under her tits and dabbed at spots on her skirt.

"Don't let your parents see your skirt. Take it to the dry cleaner under my account and pick it up before I get back," he told her.

She was making no effort to cover herself; she just had the most curious look on her face.

"OK, I will do what you tell me. Will you take care of it, Mr. Morgan? My skirt and our secret."

He felt his regret soften. Maybe this would work. Maybe he could manage this too. He was her boss.

"Look, it is our secret and I'll take care of you. No one will know. No friends. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mr. Morgan," she replied.

"If you ever want me again then you will make sure," he told her.

"I want you again, Mr. Morgan. Please."

"Come here". She walked to him, and he hugged her. She was still topless and trying to clean up but she felt nice and smiled at him as she pulled away. It was a little awkward, but he would handle it. He kissed her cheek which made her smile before she started putting her clothes back on.

Rachel left shortly after with another hug, and he gave her the instructions on what to do for the business. As she left, he went to his office, sat at his computer, and reached in the top drawer, popping the false bottom out. He reached over the pistol and grabbed a thumb drive, putting in his computer for the download while he walked upstairs to shower in the guest house. The hot water hit him for a second time that day and he thought about his next moves in Denver. Walking back down to the office in his towel he poured a drink and saw that the thumb drive download was complete.

With hours left before he had to leave for his flight, he pulled up the drive's content and grabbed the glass of whisky beside him. The first file showed a video feed from a restaurant camera; he may have deleted it from their system but that didn't stop him from keeping it for himself. He watched the blonde girl strip on the bar before straddling him, Abby's thong was the last bit of clothing she had on before going to her knees on the barroom floor. Smiling, he pulled up another feed showing Laci, straddling him by the pool, tits bouncing in his face as she fucked him in broad daylight one drunken afternoon; the Ackersons be damned. Maybe she would like to be taped; maybe not -- he never asked.

Lastly, he pulled up the newly downloaded file and watched Rachel reach up to grab his cock. He moved the towel out of the way as he felt his dick harden. Maybe it was the whiskey, but regret left the building. He was ready for his new project. He could easily have cum again, but he decided to wait and see what Denver offered him tonight. His phone buzzed again, and he realized he'd missed three messages now; two from Laci and one from Abby.

Laci: Saw your flight delayed; I'll be in bed when you get here so take advantage of me.

Laci: Here is a picture to hold you over.

He smiled as he looked at her flashing her tits for him from the bar bathroom.

Lastly,

Abby: I look forward to our meeting on Wednesday so we can relieve the pressure from these recent transactions.

He smiled as he sat down his phone and watched the video feeds one more time then he finished his drink, and made another before he got dressed to leave for his flight.