The Bully Pt. 09

"What time does your maid typically arrive?" I began innocently enough.

"She gets here right at noon," Samantha responded. "Has done for years. Why?"

"Well," I began hesitantly. "John said you made him clean your shower enclosure every time he used it. Was this before your maid started working for you?"

"Like I said, Mark," Samantha whispered softly. "I have had the same maid service for years. I made John clean my shower because he was a cock-hound and he needed to be put in his place. I made him strip the bed too," she added with a giggle. "Told him that I had a hot date that night. You should have seen his face."

"There was no date?" I asked incredulously. "Were you just fucking with him?"

"Yep," Samantha said proudly. "Just because I could."

It felt great to be lying next to the woman of John's dreams, especially knowing that he had never experienced the joy of making love to her. As we continued to share a laugh at John's expense, Samantha encouraged me to hold her tighter, and under the sustained body contact, I felt my cock stir to life. Samantha obviously felt it too, because she giggled excitedly and turned to face me.

"Looks like somebody is ready for round two," she said cheerfully, as she stroked my stiffening cock. "How would you like to finish this time, Mark?"

Samantha seemed intent on reciprocating for the previous evening's encounter, and after assuring me that she was completely satisfied, she repeated her question.

"Doggy-style," I said nervously, hoping that this was one of my available options.

"As you wish, Mark," Samantha said enthusiastically. "Give me a few minutes to freshen-up."

Bearing in mind that we had just showered together, I couldn't imagine that Samantha would need much freshening-up, but I watched as she exited the bedroom and entered her large walk-in closet. Less than ten minutes later, she emerged in a light-pink, silk suit that had been tailored to fit her perfectly.

"Remember this little ensemble?" Samantha asked playfully. "This is exactly what I was wearing when you and John walked me to my Maserati. I haven't worn it to work in years. In fact, I had the skirt hemmed recently. Is it too short?"

I am not sure if she was searching for a compliment, or if she really didn't know how phenomenal she looked at that exact moment. However, as I allowed my eyes to roam and take in every detail of her exquisite outfit, I responded truthfully.

"You look incredible, Samantha," I gushed. "I remember that evening as if it were yesterday."

"Me too!" Samantha said excitedly. "I remember John trying so hard to impress me by sitting at the front of the class. And his stupid preppy look."

"John took forever to choose that outfit," I said with a laugh. "He must have changed five or six times."

"Do you know what else I remember about that evening, Mark?" Samantha teased. "You stealing a glance at my garter-belt straps, and developing a noticeable bulge in your pants as you stood by the side of my Maserati. What on earth was going through your mind?"

Samantha and I had become extremely comfortable with each other in such a short period of time. It seemed like she really wanted to give me some reciprocation for last night, and I took a risk and told her the truth.

"When we were in class, and you bent over to plug in your laptop, all I could think about was hiking your skirt up and bending you over the desk," I admitted in a moment of candidness. "I hope that doesn't offend you, Samantha."

"Offend me?" she laughed. "You have no clue how flattered that makes me feel, Mark. Come here baby," she beckoned me with her outstretched hand.

I threw back the bed covers, and even though I was a little self-conscious of my leaking erection, I slowly approached Samantha.

"Follow me," she instructed, as we walked down the long hallway until we entered her office.

As befits an established attorney, Samantha's office was opulent yet professional. Clearly no expense had been spared with the decor or the furniture, and dominating the room was a large leather-topped mahogany desk. Samantha walked to the front edge of the desk and leaned over it, supporting herself with her elbows. As she did so, her recently shortened skirt rose up over her toned upper-thighs, exposing the same garter-belt straps that I had fantasized about, all those years ago.

"What happened after you bent me over the desk, in your fantasy, Mark?" Samantha asked seductively. "Did you spank me? Take me from behind? Fuck my ass?"

"I took you from behind, Samantha," I said in nervous anticipation. "Hiked up your skirt, slid your panties down, and entered your tight, moist pussy."

"Well, take me then stud," she whispered provocatively. "I am yours to enjoy as you see fit."

"I am afraid that I am not going to last long, Samantha," I stammered as I sidled in behind her.

"You did all of the heavy lifting last night, Mark," she assured me. "This is your hard-earned reward. Enjoy it, no matter how short lived."

I had fantasized about this for years, even since that day in our ethics class. I had masturbated to the thought of this scenario multiple times, never imagining that one day I would experience it, in every minute detail.

Once I was balls-deep inside this spectacular woman, she began to offer words of encouragement, presumably to entice me to blow my load.

"John never got to experience this," she said softly. "Taking me like the bitch that I am. In fact, the last time I had sex in this office, I bent John over this very desk and fucked him with a strap-on."

I wasn't sure if Samantha was embellishing the truth to get me over the finish line, or if she really had pegged John, but it was all I needed to hear, and I warned her that I was close.

"Do you want to come inside me or on my face?" Samantha whispered. "Whatever you want, Mark. Today is all about you."

I ended up coming four times that day, Samantha seemingly so enthralled with my unbridled excitement that she canceled her maid service and spent all day fulfilling my every fantasy. Samantha got deep inside my head and in the process managed to check off every perverse sexual goal on my bucket-list. We experimented with anal sex in multiple positions, Samantha invited me to titty-fuck her, and she also permitted me to give her a facial, although as this was my fourth climax, my load wasn't particularly voluminous. I was like a kid in a candy store, and far more demanding than I would normally have been, knowing that this was a one-time event.

Chemistry is a difficult entity to quantify, but a funny thing happened after we were both sexually satiated, we began connecting on a deeper level. As afternoon turned into early evening, I began to question whether it was time for me to leave, but Samantha invited me to stay for dinner with her.

Samantha ordered sushi from a very expensive restaurant that delivered locally, and she opened a bottle of red wine that was absolutely phenomenal. After we ate, she told me that she wanted to take a bath to relax, and again I took this as my cue to leave.

"I want to take a bath with you, silly," Samantha teased. "My tub is way too big for one person."

Samantha and I ended up laying in her oversized jacuzzi tub for nearly two hours, as she periodically refilled our wine glasses and added more hot water to the slowly cooling bath. We talked, kissed, soaped each other from head to toe and generally reveled in our huge, unexpected court victory.

"What are you going to buy with your windfall?" Samantha asked excitedly, as we finally got out of the bath and stood opposite each other on the heated tile floor. "A new car? A Rolex?"

"To be honest, Samantha," I began candidly. "I am still at the point in my life where any unexpected money is already previously committed, either to student loans, or my mountain of credit card debt. This windfall will make a huge dent in that debt, but I am certainly not in a position to go shopping for a new car, or a Rolex."

"How refreshingly honest, Mark," Samantha gushed. "Most men I meet spin a line of bullshit as to how wealthy they are, in order to get into my panties. Thank you for keeping it real."

With that Samantha grabbed an oversized bath towel from the heated towel rack, and began to dry me. The heated floor was doing a great job of keeping us warm, and Samantha seemed in no rush as she asked me to turn away from her, and proceeded to dry my back, shoulders, and my buttocks. She was very playful and excitable as she dried me, and at one point she rested her chin on my shoulder and whispered softly into my ear.

"Let's go shopping tomorrow. My windfall is just that, a huge unexpected bonus and I am unencumbered by debt. I want to take you to the mall and treat you to something special. Maybe a new suit?"

I tried to put up some resistance but Samantha was adamant that she wanted to repay me for winning the lawsuit, despite the lack of a preponderance of evidence in our favor.

"I enjoy treating you, Mark," Samantha said cheerfully. "You are different than most of the players I encounter. It is very gratifying to meet someone like you. More than you will ever know."

With that said, Samantha lowered herself to her knees and began to dry my legs and feet. There was a tenderness in her actions, and I felt like the most important man in the world as she ensured I was completely dry.

"Now let me dry your front," Samantha said softly. "Turn around, Mark."

I rotated slowly, unsure as to whether Samantha was currently standing or still on her knees. As she came into my periphery vision, and I realized that she was still kneeling, my cock slowly stiffened and reflexively I tried to cover it.

"Relax, Mark," Samantha said as she planted one tender kiss on my cock-head. "Like I said, I enjoy treating you."

As I stood before her, Samantha started to give me a slow, tender blowjob, unlike anything I had ever witnessed in pornography. Samantha never tried to deep-throat me, never encouraged me to face-fuck her or any of the other nasty acts that you see in porn flicks. She just tenderly, gently pampered my cock and balls before slipping her moist lips over the top of my cock-head. Then in a slow, rhythmic motion, Samantha lovingly sucked me off. Pausing periodically to look up at me and ensure that I was on board with tomorrow's shopping excursion, Samantha increased the cadence of her blowjob slightly, as I approached my climax. Then in one of the defining sexual moments of my life, she expertly extracted the few remaining traces of my ejaculate from my nutsack, which I had viewed as already completely drained.

My final release wasn't much more than a dribble, but it still felt incredible. Samantha held my cock in her mouth until it started to go flaccid, and then arose slowly from her knees and flashed me an appreciative smile.

"Thanks for agreeing to come shopping with me tomorrow, Mark," she whispered. "I am going to brush my teeth."