Ross's Revenge

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A male escort turns the tables on his client, or does he?
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Ross and Claire entered the hotel suite. Throughout the evening, everything had been a prelude up to this moment, the anticipation of what forbidden pleasures were waiting to be discovered and explored.

Claire set her purse down on the night table. Ross excused himself to go to the bathroom. As she waited for him to finish, she thought of the wicked idea she had been planning for quite some time before they met each other for the evening. She hoped it would work.

Despite Ross's cool, gentlemanly, polite manner, which she was expecting from someone in his profession as a male escort, she sensed through her emails and phone calls with him over the past couple of months when they were getting to know each other that he was the kind of man who got off on being in control, that he had a little bit of a temper that bubbled underneath the surface. Plus, he also had somewhat of an ego that came out in certain unguarded moments.

She wondered if inciting his anger would be fueled into passion. It was an interesting experiment she never tried on a man before and she chose Ross to be the man who would play the role of the dominant with her. Throughout their correspondence, she slowly was able to pique his interest from being just one of many, to being his main focus, which is what she desired and craved the most.

She could tell how eager he was to talk to her every time she called, how quickly he had answered her emails. At dinner it was obvious how much he wanted her, how he kept rubbing her leg under the table, how he never stopped holding her hand as they walked together, how he couldn't keep his hands off her in the elevator on the way up to the suite.

He came out of the bathroom and approached her. He was a devastatingly handsome man, with chestnut brown hair, piercing hazel eyes, and a devilish smile. He took her hand and pulled her close. "Come here," he whispered. He started to kiss her, gently at first, then his kiss became more passionate as his tongue mingled with hers. However, something wasn't quite right. He felt her body stiffen, as if she were uncomfortable. She stopped kissing him and released herself from his grasp.

"What's wrong, Claire?" he asked with a note of concern in his voice.

"Nothing," she said, not looking at him. "It's nothing. Forget it."

"Something's wrong, I can tell," he said, placing his hand on the small of her back. She turned away from his touch. "Whatever it is, you can tell me."

She looked at him and took a deep breath. "Ross, I've been thinking."

"About?"

"Well, you're very sweet and we had a nice time tonight, but you know what, I'm not sure about this whole thing. I thought I could go through with this, but I can't. I'm thinking maybe I should hire someone else next time that I feel more comfortable with. I hope you understand. I'm sorry, but I'm not really feeling it."

He was confused and puzzled. They had an amazing evening, or so he thought, of cocktails, dinner, dancing, flirting incessantly, and now she was saying she wasn't feeling it and she wanted to hire someone else? It just wasn't possible that this beautiful woman could be interested in anyone else but him. It had to be some kind of game she was playing.

"I don't believe you," he said.

"I don't care if you believe me or not," she responded coldly.

"That's bullshit."

She was unfazed. "That's fine. If that's how you feel, you're free to leave if you like."

"Leave?" he repeated, dumbfounded.

"Yeah."

"Is that really what you want? Come on, Claire. Stop teasing me."

"I'm not teasing. I'm serious." She walked over to the mirror, pretending to inspect her hair and makeup.

"Did I do something wrong? Was there anything I did tonight that was not to your liking? Was it anything I said? Because I'd be more than happy to make it up to you."

He stood behind her and put his hands on her shoulders, leaning in close to kiss her neck. She jerked her shoulders away from him. "No, not in particular, but this just isn't what I thought it was going to be. I'm really very sorry."

He watched her as she removed her earrings and set them on the table. "It doesn't seem fair that you should have to pay for the whole time if you're forcing me to leave," he said stiffly. "I'll just give you back half of what you paid me -- "

"That won't be necessary," she interrupted him, still looking at herself in the mirror. "You can keep it all." She set her bracelet and watch down next to her earrings.

"No, please, I insist -- "

"Keep it, I said," she snapped, becoming irritated. She turned to face him. "If I were you, I'd take whatever I could get. Isn't that what men like you do anyway?"

"Who the hell does this bitch think she is?" He thought, feeling the heat of his anger flushing his face. "That," he said, as he struggled to keep his cool, "was a low blow. Why are you acting like this? I didn't do anything - "

"You won't have to," she shot back, turning back toward the mirror. As she took the pins out of her hair, he observed how deliberate, fluid, and seductive she was in her movements. He watched as the silken, black velvet strands of her hair draped gently across her back. She had beautiful brown eyes and smooth, olive-complected skin. His eyes traveled down to gaze at her sumptuous cleavage, her curvy ass, and her long, shapely legs, which he imagined being tightly wrapped around him. He could feel his dick getting hard, despite his growing anger.

She turned toward him again. "I've made it very easy for you. I've given you an out. I don't understand why you're still complaining. Take your money and go."

"No," he said forcefully.

She narrowed her eyes and glared at him, crossing her arms. "I think you'd better leave now. I'm tired and I'd like to go to bed."

She strode over to the front door to open it. Before she could grab the door handle, he grabbed her and pulled her close, crushing his mouth over hers. She struggled, but he was too strong for her.

She turned her face away from him. "Let go of me, you asshole!" she shouted. This only made his grip on her tighter.

"Like hell I'm leaving here," he breathed hard into her ear. "You're not going to bed except with me."

In one quick motion, he scooped her up and carried her to the bed. He threw her down and pinned his body on top of hers. He kissed her roughly again. She tried to get up, but he pushed her down. He sat up above her and pinned her arms above her head.

"I'm going to fuck you like no one else has ever fucked you before in your life," he declared.

"Oh, yeah?" she taunted him. "I'd like to see you try it."

He ripped his suit jacket, tie, and shirt off. He tore her dress off and groaned when his eyes grazed over her gorgeous body, over the sight of the sexy lingerie she wore. Her black lace bra had the nipples cut out and she wore crotchless panties with a lacy garter belt and silk stockings. He let go of her arms and began to fiercely suck on one nipple, then the other. She cried out in ecstasy, clutching the pillow tightly. She reached out to undo his belt buckle, but he caught her hands and held them down above her head again.

"Uh uh." He shook his head. "You're not getting that big hard cock until I'm ready to give it you."

"You motherfucker," she hissed at him. "Fine. Keep sucking my tits then."

"You don't give the orders here, I do." He flicked his tongue across her nipples, biting down on each one just hard enough to straddle the line between pleasure and pain. She cried out again, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

"Oh, is that so?" She struggled against him.

"Yeah, that is so. This is what you getting for being such a rude little bitch. For even daring to say you were going to hire someone else. I'm going to teach you a lesson you won't forget, you whore."

"Don't fucking call me a whore!"

"I can call you whatever I damn well please," he snapped.

She thrashed and writhed on the bed wildly to no avail. She knew he was too strong for her, but she secretly delighted in how she was able to push his buttons, to make him prove to her that there was no one else he wanted to fuck more than her. She wanted to be the best fuck he ever had in his life.

"If you let go of my arms, I promise I won't struggle anymore," she said, breathing hard.

"You promise?" he teased, in between suckles.

"I promise, you bastard. Now let me go!"

As soon as he let her go, she raced to the bathroom. However, he was too quick and tackled her to the floor. She struggled beneath him and bit his shoulder.

"Fuck!" he swore. He kissed her violently and she squirmed beneath him helplessly. As they lay there on the floor, she slowly stopped struggling and gave in to him, pulling him close to her. Her fingernails scraped roughly down his back as his mouth melted into hers in a feverish kiss.

He ran his tongue slowly down her chin and neck, across her nipples, over her stomach, until it finally stopped between her legs. He gently flicked his tongue quickly across her clit, making her moan with pleasure. He brushed her thighs lightly with his lips and licked the area all around her pussy, but not licking her clit again at all. He wanted to deny her satisfaction for as long as she could stand it.

He seemed to continue this pattern for what seemed like forever. He enjoyed the sounds of her whimpering, almost as if she were about to cry. She felt like she was going insane. Maybe she had gone too far with this ruse.

"Ross," she choked out, her body twitching. "Please...please...finger me, lick my pussy...please...do something! I can't stand...this...anymore..."

"Quiet," he snapped. "I want to enjoy watching you squirm."

"You...bastard! I...hate...you..."

"I hate you too. Now we're even."

Finally, he took his finger and inserted it slowly into her pussy. He could feel how juicy, wet, and hot she was, how ready she was for him. He took it back out, and slowly inserted just the very tip of his finger back in. He continued doing this, hearing her moans and sighs, watching her face straining with pleasure, reveling in what a beautiful creature she was. Her body was his sexual instrument that he could play with the finesse of an accomplished maestro, a luscious sex orchestra that he could conduct at his will.

He slipped in another finger and probed inside her roughly, finding the special spot that he was so adept at manipulating. She bucked back and forth against him, arching her back off the floor, crying out in ecstasy. At last he took his tongue and licked her clit, feeling how hard it was, loving how excited she was. Her pussy hair and her wetness felt like liquid silk. She was so delicious. She felt like she was in heaven. She didn't want it to stop. He murmured, "You taste so good."

"Mmmm," she whispered. "That feels so good. Oh, yes, oh, God, I want you to make me cum. Please...don't stop, I love it!"

He sucked hard on her clit and could hear her breaths becoming shallower, knowing she was close to the point of no return. She could barely contain herself as the blinding force of her orgasm shattered her brain and the entire whole of her body, consuming her with searing passion as she arched her back as far as it would go, pushing his head down on her pussy, until she slowly came down from her wave of pleasure. He lay back on the floor next to her, both of their bodies covered in sweat. They struggled to breathe normally, then looked at each other and started to laugh.

"Are you okay?" he asked her. He took her hand and kissed it gently. "I hope I didn't hurt you too much when I tackled you to the floor."

She laughed. "Yeah, I'm fine." He looked concerned. "Are you sure, Claire? We can stop if you want."

"Yes, Ross, I'm sure." She tousled his hair playfully. "Wow! That was incredible!"

"Damn right it was," he said, smiling. "Would you like some water?"

"Sure."

He stood up, grabbed a glass from the table, then went to the bathroom to pour some water from the tap. He came back into the room and she took it, greedily drinking gulps of water to satiate her thirst.

"Thanks." After she was done drinking her water, he caressed her face and kissed her. He stood and helped her up, leading her back to the bed. This time she did not protest. He slowly laid her on the bed. He started to help her remove her shoes, but she stopped him.

"I want to keep my heels on," she said seductively.

He smiled mischievously. "You're a bad, bad girl, aren't you? You're rotten to the core."

"I am," she said, "I want to be your slut. I want to be a good little slut."

"You are," he said, giving her a kiss. "You are my good bad little slut." She giggled and blushed.

He laid on top of her and they kissed passionately for a while, enjoying a good makeout session. She could feel how hard he was and she parted her legs, to let him know what he had in store for him.

They moved back and forth against each other as they kissed. They were going through the motions of sex, which felt very naughty and enticing to both of them since he still had his pants on. In between kisses, she said, "I just want to kiss and make out for a while. Is that alright?"

"Whatever you wish," he murmured.

"You're not giving me orders anymore?" she asked teasingly.

"I haven't forgotten that. You still had to ask my permission, right?"

She smiled slyly. "In that case, I'm more than happy to be your personal sex slave for the evening."

He grinned. "That's what I like to hear."

After they finished kissing, they got up and she started to unbuckle his belt. She threw it on the floor, then unzipped his pants. She removed his pants and briefs to reveal his cock, which made her gasp in surprise. It was bigger and better than she thought it would be.

He sat up on his knees while she knelt in front of him. "I love your dick. I want to suck on it," she told him, taking it in her hand. She was about lower her head to put her mouth on it when he suddenly grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, forcing her to look up at him.

"What do we say, before we ask permission to do something?"

"May I suck your dick?" she asked, struggling to keep a straight face.

"May I suck your dick, what?" he asked, feigning impatience.

"Please?" she asked, pouting. She looked too damn cute. God, how he wanted to pound the hell out of her. But not yet. Still not yet.

"Now say the whole thing," he ordered, reaching over to spank her firm ass. She screamed, "Oh, yeah, spank my ass harder! Harder!"

He spanked her ass again and again until he could see it was turning pink. "You have no manners, you know that?" he shouted while she cried out, "That's right, I'm a bad girl, Ross! Punish me! Come on, spank me harder, damn it!"

He kept spanking her while she tried to suck his dick. He pulled her head back by her hair so she wouldn't be able to. "You're not going to suck my dick until you say it! Say it!"

"Okay, okay, ouch! Fuck! Alright, that's enough, will ya?" She laughed. "May I suck your dick, Ross, please, pretty please with whipped cream and a yummy cherry on top?"

He sighed and pretended to look exasperated. "If you must."

She smiled and wrapped her mouth around the head of his dick, feeling her tongue swirling all around, up and down. She sucked on the head, then attempted to deep throat him, going down as far as she could on his cock, then back up again. He moaned as he felt the wetness of her tongue licking up and down the shaft, driving him wild with desire.

He shoved her head onto his cock as she deep throated him again, then moved back up and flicked her tongue hard and fast around the tip. She loved the groaning noises he made while he was enjoying himself, and she loved giving him head because of those reactions. She could feel a little lubrication from the tip of his dick come out as she sucked on him. He tasted so good to her. She enjoyed pleasuring him so much.

"Mmmm," he said when he looked down at her, seeing his hard cock going in and out of her mouth. "God, you're fucking amazing. That feels so fucking good."

She kept sucking on his dick until he pulled her head back. "That's enough," he said curtly.

"Awww, I wasn't done yet. I wanted to make you cum in my mouth." She did that cute little pout again that he loved so much.

"I'll decide how I cum, not you."

"Okay," she said, struggling to hold in her laughter.

"You think that's funny, huh? Do you?" he asked her, pushing her back down, holding her arms down above her head again, straddling her as she burst out laughing.

"I'm sorry," she said, gasping for air. "You're just so easy to poke fun at."

"Oh, I'll give you something to poke," he remarked, struggling not to laugh himself. He had played the role of the dominant many times before, but it had never been this much fun until he met Claire. She was as close to the perfect, debauched, sexual partner in crime that he could ever hope to find.

He let go of her arms, reached for his suit jacket on the floor, and found some condoms inside the pocket. He unwrapped one of the condoms and slipped it over his dick. She lay there, spread-eagled, gazing at him in anticipation. He pulled her by the hips roughly toward him, teasingly running his tongue all over her body. She whimpered and spread her legs as wide as she could. She felt the wetness dripping out of her pussy. She wanted him so badly to fuck her. She couldn't stand it anymore -- she felt like she was ready to explode.

"Please, Ross," she begged, "Fuck me, please. I'll do whatever you say, whatever you want. Just fuck me."

"You promise?" he asked her, enjoying how much she wanted him. He ran his hands over her nipples, pinching them as hard as he could. She cried out in pain.

"Yes, goddamnit! Fuck!"

"I don't like your language. The ruder you are, the longer you have to wait." He traced the outline of her face with his fingertip, along her lips. He put his index finger in her mouth and she slowly sucked on it. Then he ran his finger down her neck, along her nipples, making a figure-eight motion along the mounds of her tits, her perfect nipples nice and taut. He then ran his finger down her stomach until he reached the opening of her pussy.

"I'm sorry -- please, Ross, I promise, I really do...oh, God..."

He teased her, barely putting the tip of his finger inside her. "You promise me you'll be a good girl?" he asked.

"Yes...oh, God, yes..."

"You'll behave and do as I say?"

"Yes, yes...oh, God, Ross, please..."

"How much do you want me?"

"I want you so much! Oh, God...PLEASE! I can't stand it anymore!"

He reached down and grabbed his cock, slowly easing his way inside her. She gasped as she felt his hardness mingling with her wetness. It felt so good, so beautiful. She had never felt so horny and ready to fuck in all her life.

He pulled back out and only stuck in the tip, then pulled out again. "What...are...you...doing?" she struggled to say the words, choked with delirious, white-hot desire.

"Whatever I want to do to you. Isn't that what you promised me?"

"Yes...oh, fuck...yes...whatever you want...oh, God your cock feels so good..."

He kept teasing her with the head for a while until he finally buried it deep inside her. She raised her legs up and he pushed them back as far as they could go until her knees were almost parallel with her cheeks. She loved the feeling of being fucked and spread open as wide as she could for him. As they moved back and forth, she screamed, "Harder! Fuck me harder! Is that the best you can do?" He grabbed her heels, sped up, and fucked her as hard as he could until she came.

He turned over so that she was on top of him. He grabbed her tits as she rode him. "Fuck me, Claire," he demanded. "Fuck me, that's it. You're such a nasty, dirty little slut, aren't you?"

"Mmmm, yeah," she moaned. "I am."

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