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Her cries of bliss were muffled by a plush down pillow, freshly washed and scented with citron and clove.
The scene opens upon a lavish New England seaside hotel room. Lavish, for a WASP’s sensibilities. By all means, the building and decor haven’t changed in at least two hundred years. This room was lovingly nicknamed the “Poet Suite”, for the story goes that once upon a time great writers like Wordsworth, Thoreau, and Emerson stayed a short tenure in this very room.
They washed themselves in the very same bath tub, wrote incredibly influential works at the same desk, slept in this very bed.
Morella couldn’t help but wonder if they also ate pussy with the same fervor as Bif Taylor in this bed.
You wouldn’t expect it from him, given how he and his compatriots are so self serving, but he loves to eat pussy.
Ever since Morella’s father cut her off from his funds when she left for college, she’s entered this lurid arrangement with Bif. He would be her sugar daddy, or “benefactor” as he put it so eloquently, in exchange for certain services.
She had no idea that these services would include her being serviced so well, though.
It wasn’t as if she had been the one to suggest this. Though she comes from the same upper crust as Bif, she had just planned on some entrapment scheme or finding a wealthy boyfriend to fund her expenses. In their circles, these are one in the same. All relationships are transactional among the New England elite.
But to say she hadn’t dreamed of Bif Taylor since they were teens in high school would be a lie. Watching him sweat and bleed in the boxing ring, muscles glistening in the overhead lights with each concise jab, made her wet to think about to this day.
It was like watching gladiatorial combat. Cheering for your best man and watching him beat his opponent to a bloody pulp, all the while you can smell the heavy musk of a man under pressure just mere feet from the ring.
No, it was Bif that suggested this. They had found a moment alone while attending a charity event at the yacht club. She lamented to him her predicament while watching the moon stroke the waves with its sweet, delicate fingers.
She confessed that she would no longer be able to attend events such as these if her father went through with withholding her trust fund.
Now, Bif and Morella had been playing their little game of “will they or won’t they” for years. Chasing each other’s tails but never finding the time or courage to just be upfront about their emotions. He simply took this as an opportunity to end it.
The memory lives so clearly in her mind. It was quite a few months ago now, but she still yet remembered the words she said, “It’s such a shame, I only ever came to these things to see you.”
He drew closer, though he had already been at her side. His body heat intermingled with hers in the cool northeastern air as his large fingers danced down her bare spine in her open backed dress. She quickly diverted her gaze from the waves to him, staring up to his stern expression. Just a moment ago he was wearing the same perpetually calm look as he always had, what had changed?
”Let me take care of you.” He whispered as the band inside lulled into a brief intermission.
And thusly, their arrangement began.
Publicly, they announced their status as dating to their little WASPy friends. They agreed it’d be better to get ahead of the whole thing before people started to question why they were being seen together.
Privately, he owned her ass.
Her slender fingers worked their way gently into his auburn hair. All she wanted was a spare glance, to see his gorgeous emerald eyes staring up from her core and that would be all she needed to cum.
She knew how he could be when he’s between her thighs. He won’t stop until the job is complete, and maybe not even then. All he ever wanted was to be suffocated between her thighs.
In their school days he would time his walks to class just so he could walk behind her on the stairs and look up into her skirt, getting a full view of her soft, plush thighs. On freezing winter days he would fantasize about wearing them around his head as ear muffs, burying his hungry mouth in her cute pussy.
And now that he’s a man of his own means, he intends to live that fantasy to the fullest.
”Bif, please, I-I need you to-“ She began, hiding her cherry red face beneath a pillow out of embarrassment.
Her request was cut off by an angry grunt before he locked her legs around his head, sitting up and bringing her body with him. He made sure her cunt never left his lips.
Now hanging upside down with her hair fanned out over the sheets, she gasped incredulously at him and stared up her body to his furrow browed stern gaze.
”Don’t cover your face,” his words reverberated against her tender clit, causing her to squirm as he continued,” I don’t pay you to hide.”
With that, he latched his mouth onto her clit again. He knew just how to make her cry out for him, transitioning between speeds like with a stick shift.
He circled at her clit in quick, small motions before giving the lips a big, slow flat tongued lick. Then, he dipped his tongue into her hole to savor how she quivered beneath his touch. Every so often pausing to scrape his teeth over her feather soft inner thighs. Then repeat, repeat, repeat until she’s nothing but the trembling mess she is now.
“Fuck, I’m almost…” She whispered as her shaking hand rested over his, keeping her body held up tightly by his firm grasp on her waist.
Oh, the way her pliant body squished beneath his strong hands was enough to justify the money he spends on her. To see the way her natural fat molds to his touch, he could die a happy man if he suffocated from her sitting on his face.
He focused his attention on her clit at her promise to cum, kicking up the speed exponentially.
”Bif!! I-I-!” She gasped helplessly just before she was thrown over the edge of ecstasy, lacing her fingers into his beautiful red hair and forcefully holding his face into her pussy. She rode his face, gyrating her hips into his awaiting mouth until the convulsions subsided.
He finally released her to lay flat on the mattress when her body went slack.
It was a sight to behold, truly, to see her slick, sopping pussy and thighs glistening in the low light. To watch her twitch and whine pathetically as he took one final swipe at her sensitive clit with his thumb. To force her to watch as he wiped his chin clean with the back of his hand, taunting her with his devilish smile and pride at what he’s done to her.
”Stop.” She whined breathlessly as she tried to swipe away the fingers that held her chin in place.
”I’ll stop when I’m finished with you.” His remark was halfway teasing, but she could sense the sincerity in his gruff tone.
The promise of this being a long night filled her with delightful fright and excited her, especially as he aligned his body behind hers in a spooning position and yanked her leg up from behind the knee.
She was never truly afraid of him, not even once. Despite he being a renowned boxing champion with brutish tendencies in the ring, despite their stark size difference, despite his cold, stern gaze that discouraged less dedicated women-
She had never been afraid of him because with each rough touch, there was a split second of care after. A caress of his fingers, a kiss to her forehead, a fond glance to ensure that she was okay. Even when they were just silly teens, she never felt afraid. There was something in the way the edges of his lips would curl into the ghost of a smile when she would happily greet him that told her he meant no harm.
And now, as he lines up his cock head dripping with pre-cum to her sopping pussy while he holds her in such a compromising position, she felt nothing but joy that it would be him to plow her into oblivion.
In their circles, all relationships are transactional, but despite the nature of it this one felt pure.